


Keep the mask on

by phancakes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Autistic Character, Autistic Peter Parker, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, He doesn't know, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Sexual Harassment, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23188537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phancakes/pseuds/phancakes
Summary: Peter hates drugs, he really does. He doesn't understand why anyone would ever want to put poison into their body. But the poison feels kind of good and he just keeps messing up
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 50
Kudos: 107





	1. Straight-Edge

Peter didn’t want to be at this party, he really didn’t. He didn’t like crowds and he didn’t like not knowing what people thought of him. His finger tips twitched in search of the mask that wasn’t there, the mask that kept him protected. May never ceased to to tell him that she feared that Spider-man would take over his life, his school work, that he was stressed out because of his late-night work as a vigilante and that it was making him more anxious than usual.

What she didn’t know was that his suit was the one thing that kept him from spiralling. It made him feel warm and protected because he knew everyone would see him as a hero instead of a scrawny, 15-year-old kid with little money and little talent. No-one had to know that that was all he was.

But Mr. Stark had asked him to come to this «party» to form connections with well-known people and their children and that as SI’s only personal intern (officially that’s what he was) he had to attend. He was terrified that if he didn’t go, the press would speculate and there would be consequences. Mr. Stark had told him a lot about possible scenarios and he certainly believed him. He shuddered, suddenly imagining the headlines the press could come up with:

  
  
HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT WORKING FOR STARK INDUSTRIES?

STRANGE HAPPENINGS AT STARK INDUSTRIES

or worse:

TONY STARK’S INTERN REALLY HIS SON?

  
  
Secretly though, he thought that Mr. Stark just didn’t like frequenting these types of parties alone, which was unavoidable when Mrs. Potts was away on business trips. He knew that people at «parties» like these could be fraudulent and money-hungry even when they had enough money to feed an entire state for a year. At least, that’s what May told him and he didn’t dare question her when she got into one of those moods about saving the world and how people were being reckless and selfish.

Then again, she worked at a hospital so she probably saw the victims of those types of situations very often. Human trafficking victims, mentally ill people who could not get treatment, young people in pain that couldn’t afford pain-killers. Then seeing those same young people a year later, addicted to heroin.  
It definitely explained her apprehension towards Mr. Stark. Still, she never expressed anything but immense gratitude towards his efforts to keep Peter safe during patrol.

"…ter, kid. Remember to stay quiet. If anyone starts to imply that you are anything but my intern, smile and act like they were making a…"

"-Huh?"

He could already feel Mr. Stark becoming very, very angry.

"Have you even been listening to what I have been trying to tell you for the past fifteen minutes?"

  
"I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I’ve just been-"

"Tony!", one of the guys suddenly exclaimed, champagne in hand, using it to urge them to come closer. Peter didn’t even know champagne contained bubbles.

Tony sighed disappointedly, probably because Peter had avoided another lecture, and then smiled in a way only those who were close to him knew was fake, approaching Edward and the teenager standing next to him. Peter followed him, well aware that he looked like a lost puppy. But he couldn't help it - he didn't know anyone else.

"Edward! This is my intern, Peter Parker"

Mr. Stark motioned towards Peter, his hands slow and steady. Peter wished his movements could be like that. Be steady, have purpose. Another reason he loved having the mask on. When he was Spider-Man he could pretend that he actually knew what he was doing. When he was Spider-Man Peter Parker was simply a fantasy. A bad one, too.

Mr. Stark’s friend, Edward, had a curious but charming look on his face.

"Nice to meet you, Peter. Oh, and this is my son, David"

"Nice to meet you, sir"

The slightly dishevelled-looking guy next to Edward, now introduced to Peter as Edward’s son, merely nodded approvingly. Even though he was wearing a suit, his curls were frizzy and untamed, the slightly crazed look in his eyes not helping his case. He looked a lot like Peter felt. Out of place.

Edward, David’s father, pointedly cleared his throat.

"Hi" David said, "I’m David"

"Charming, David. Splendid. You’ve learnt a lot in boarding school. I’m so sorry, you know how it is, teenagers", Mr. Stark’s friend apologized profusely, looking embarrassed by his son’s taciturnity.

"Yes, I do know", Mr Stark said, side-eyeing Peter.

Peter shyly smiled at David who looked equally uncomfortable.

He definitely would try and befriend David. Maybe it was good to have a friend at parties like these, someone to rely on so he wouldn’t have to be so alone and uncomfortable all the time. But as much as he wanted to appear fun and entertaining in front of his new acquaintance, the lump in his throat would not let him speak a word.

After about five to ten minutes of Mr. Stark and his friend catching up on business and family, Edward pulled Mr. Stark aside to introduce him to a bigger group of people, presumably more powerful people, people in power.

Peter took a sudden interest in his shoes as him and his new acquaintance were left to their own devices.

"So, Peter", David said, "Want to have some fun?"

"Umm, sure", Peter looked away uncomfortably. His shoes were brand-new, vegan leather, a gift from Mr. Stark’s tailor, just like his suit. They were black and he thought they looked too serious and expensive for a kid like him.

"Yeah, let’s h-have some fun. What do you have in mind?"

"How about some Clarity?"

"Um…You mean alcohol?"

David chuckled.

"Good guess, but no. You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?"

"Hey, kid"

  
As Mr. Stark suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, the two of them jumped up. Peter didn’t even know why, but what David had said stuck with him and made him feel uneasy. Something about it just felt off.

  
"Alright. Sorry, David, I’m going to have to steal him from you for a little while. Stay right here"

David shrugged

"I’m not going anywhere"

After Mr. Stark had introduced him to about a million people, whose faces Peter would never be able to remember, Mr. Stark led him to the spot where David was still leaning against the wall, wearing a smug look on his face.

"You’re back"

Mr. Stark focused all his attention on Peter.

"Alright, kid. Me and Edward are going to go and discuss with Elon Musk’s representative about some future projects of mine. Happy will drive you home, you guys stay safe. Remember to be home by midnight, it’s a school night and I don’t want to get in trouble with Aunt Hottie"

Mr. Stark winked at his protégé and got lost in the crowd. Peter rolled his eyes at his mentor’s last remark.

Then he slowly turned around and remembered what had transpired seconds before. 

Suddenly filled with a new-found confidence he didn’t know he had, Peter asked David.

"Where are we going then? To have fun, I mean"

David’s whole demeanor changed from smug to something else, something Peter couldn’t quite pinpoint.

"We’re going to a different type of party. Let’s go"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is reading this fanfic:) Comments about inevitable grammatical mistakes are very much wanted and appreciated seeing as I don't have a beta and English is not my native language. Let me know if I get anything wrong in terms of the drugs or if you have any suggestions. Also many thanks to @abovethethroat for writing their [fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21657889/chapters/51645811) which is definitely continuing to inspire me


	2. Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter tries something new

The lights were blinding, «Champagne Supernova» was drowning out any other sounds there might have been. Peter was sure that the volume that the speakers to his right and left were set to was breaking some kind of law. Whenever David glanced at him though, he smiled and did a little dance. He didn’t want David to think he was some kind of loser who didn’t know how to have have a good time.

He looked up to the ceiling to see the fluorescent lights move in and out of each other’s pathways. With how much skin everyone was showing he knew he was overdressed. Not only that but everybody’s clothes were sparkly, shiny, interesting and he felt rather dull wearing his black suit that absorbed light instead of reflecting it. He must have looked like a black streak in the middle of a rainbow.

What struck him more though was this: David looked normal. The frizz of his curls was lit up by the same lights as the ceiling was, which made the messiness look intentional and in style. Sparks passing through his eyes made the dangerous look in them seem exciting and present instead of bored and detached. In short: Everything that made him stand out in the outside world made him fit in in that club. He was in his element. Just like Ethanol in water.

Peter tensed up as David walked up to the bar to ask for some vodka like he wasn’t 16. He felt more like Teflon.

"Hey man, do you have some Clarity for me and my friend?"

"That depends. Do you have the money?"

"Yeah, of course I do"

"Are you sure that your friend’s up for it? He looks a little green", the bartender laughed.

"Look, man, I’m 21", David pulled up his wallet to show an ID that only Peter knew was entirely fake, "You either have the stuff or you don’t"

Just as David made the move to pull away, visibly annoyed, the bartender grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back in.

Peter started sweating as he realized that Clarity didn’t mean what he had thought it meant at all. It wasn’t vodka. His confidence faded away as quickly as it had arrived.

"Alright, alright, don’t sweat it. You know I’m just joking around here. I’ve got 100 for each of you. That’ll be 50"

The bartender slid something over the counter, David handed over the fifty-dollar bill and that was it.

David gave Peter a sign to go to the toilets and he reluctantly agreed. After waiting in line for about five minutes they found an empty stall. The girl that had emerged from the stall gave them a weird look but quickly rushed off, her ponytail swaying in the rhythm of her footsteps.

Peter suddenly felt a lot calmer, more clear-headed being cramped into that empty cubicle, where there wasn’t glitter and party lights everywhere. The stall reeked of urine and looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a long time, yet he felt relatively okay compared to how he felt out there. It was all too much, too different, too loud.

David opened up his palm to show his treasure. Two green pills.

"Uh…What is this?", Peter asked really loudly.

David shushed him and whispered,  
"It’s just some Ecstasy, nothing to worry about. It’ll make the whole experience more enjoyable"

He swallowed one of the pills, watching Peter expectantly.

Peter took the remaining pill in his hand and put it up to his mouth. He quickly put it back into David’s palm.

"Wait, I can’t do this"

"Of course. I’m sorry, I knew it. I knew you were too young for this"

"No, I’m not. I just don’t want to do it"

"Are you sure? It seems to me like you’re just scared of what daddy will think"

"He’s not my dad. Besides, I’m 15. I can do anything I want to do. If I wanted to take this drug, which I don’t, I could"

David gave him a stern look, put the pill into his palm and said

"Prove it"

Peter swallowed it dry.

"Ewww, this tastes disgusting"

  
"Shh"

"Sorry", Peter laughed. He couldn’t believe what he had just done.

This wasn’t so bad, why hadn’t he tried this before? His legs felt wobbly from all the stress, so he sat on David’s lap who had sat down on the closed toilet seat. And why had he put himself through so much stress trying to avoid them? Drugs were fine, he couldn’t even feel their effects. Maybe it was a Spider-Man thing. Yes, definitely a Spider-Man thing.

He could hear David letting out quiet snorts behind him.

"Are you laughing at me?"

"Sorry, it’s just first-timers, they always get me"

They sat there quietly for another ten minutes before David poked Peter’s head with his finger..

"Come on, Pete, let’s get up. It’s show-time"

Peter didn’t feel ready yet to face the outside world again but he reluctantly agreed.

As he stumbled out of the cubicle, he felt a sudden warmth. He knew it was cold outside but he felt…light. Weird. David had said it would take at least half an hour for the drug to kick in. As they went back to the dance-floor, he felt the sudden urge to touch ponytail girl’s hair. It just looked so…real and like it was floating. It wasn’t held down by gravity like the world was. Always held down by gravity. But her hair just seemed to defy it. He wished he could be her ponytail. Floating in the air, time- and weightless. He didn’t want to deal with stress and grades and growing up all the time. He just wanted peace. She was pretty.

"I LOVE THIS SONG", Peter yelled.

"Huh?", David asked, dancing with ponytail girl, "I can’t hear you"

"Hey, man, thank you so much for talking me into this! This feels amazing!", Peter screamed.

What was he talking about before? The lights were GLOWING. They transcended time and space. The night would never end. It was infinite because he was infinite. Him and David could be infinite together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised I present to you: The second chapter:) Like with the last chapter, feel free to point out any grammatical mistakes I made. Also, feel free to comment thoughts, suggestions, feelings. It keeps me motivated so if you want me to continue this story until the end, a comment would be greatly appreciated. Also btw Peter's straight in this story so there will be no relationship between him and David. It's just how the drug made him feel


	3. Comedown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Highs and lows

That morning, Peter was mortal.

**BEEEEEEEEPP**

First of all: Why was his head hurting? Woe, the realization sank in. The realization of what he had done. How far he had gone. The pill he had swallowed. 

He glanced at his alarm clock.

The numbers on his alarm clock looked weird, like they didn’t belong there. He couldn’t explain it but something just felt off. His life shouldn’t be dictated by random numbers that a lonesome Indian guy had invented.

He could still remember how amazed he was at the club lights. How mesmerizing they had looked. But these lights were burning, they hurt. The green felt like it was burning a hole into his skull. He felt sick. 

The rest of the room was plunged into darkness, so he stumbled over his laptop cable and turned on the light switch. Bad decision. Bad, bad decision. He had to get dressed blindly so he grabbed his jeans and a shirt and bolted out of the room. 

Breakfast was calm, peaceful. His throat felt sore, therefore he was glad that Aunt May was on night shift duty. He didn’t want to raise any suspicions. If she ever found about this she would be so mad at him. He was supposed to be the perfect nephew and this was not supposed to happen. He could never let her find out about the things that he had done.

He enjoyed the silence.

While he was stepping out from the apartment building, first glimpses of sunlight made their way through the white sheets covering the sky. The orange leaves on the cars and ground were starting to disappear. He wondered where they went. He wished he could be like them. Just disappear.

Being engulfed by the daily flow of working-class people he thought back to his childhood. Him and Ned used to play on these streets. May and Uncle Ben didn’t like it but he loved testing out the mini cars he made from cardboard and metal scraps with the help of his best friend. They used controllers and motherboards made from toys that rich kids gave away to local charity shops for free and watched their hard work pay off, enjoying the annoyed looks that the local residents gave them when they passed by. 

Once he had walked past the subway sliding doors, he grabbed a handrail. He was well-aware of how dirty these things were but if there was anything worse than touching that many germs on any given day it was falling over in a room full of people.

He put his earphones in and let «Colombia» by «Local Natives» calm the never-ending buzzing and screaming around him.

At lunch, Peter had to resist covering his ears with his hands or putting in his earbuds. He pulled out his phone to look at his contacts, to pretend he was doing something useful.

MJ 

MAY

GUY IN A CHAIR  ❤️

MR STARK

DAVID FARBER

He could not remember writing the last one down. Maybe David took his phone and wrote it down himself, maybe _Peter_ did and he just couldn’t remember it. With nothing else to do, Ned still stuck doing laps due to a relentlessly pushy gym teacher, MJ probably off sketching people somewhere else, he started typing:

MJ slammed her lunch tray down onto the table and sat down next to him. 

"What are you doing, nerd?" _Why was she yelling?_

Her voice felt like nails on a chalkboard and Peter physically jumped up. 

"Woah, Peter. Why are you being weird?", MJ gave him a worried look.

"I’m not being weird, why are you?", Peter cleared his throat. He could vaguely remember screaming David Bowie lyrics sometime around 3AM. He slowly sat back down. 

"Whatever", MJ sighed and started inspecting the inexplicable mush that the lunch ladies called potato salad. Peter loved her. He loved the fact that she let him be when he needed to be left alone.

He suppressed a yawn, glancing at his phone. The screen was so badly cracked that it was barely usable but he didn’t mind. David didn’t text back. Which was _probably for the best_ , as he didn’t know how to break it to David that he would never, EVER do something like that ever again. 

Someone was attempting to balance a pen on the edge of the table right next him and it was messing with his head. What was school for, anyway? He could learn all of these things at home. 

"Peter", Ned waved, making his way over to their table, his hair looking freshly washed, presumably because he had showered. 

He immediately felt better, warmer in the presence of his best friend. He remembered why going to school was valuable in the first place. Being able to learn and study with his friends was so much more fun and stimulating than being stuck at home, like he was on the week-ends.

He didn’t deserve friends like Ned and MJ. Then again, he wished he had more friends. What was wrong with him? 

The rest of the school day passed by in a blur.

On the way home, he felt his phone buzzing. Surely, it was MJ again. He didn’t want to debate feminism in the late 1950s again, he just wanted to sle-

What was he supposed to say to that? He slid his phone back into his pocket. His heart started pounding, faster than it had been before. What had he gotten himself into? And  how had he never realized how suffocating subways actually were? They were literally underground. Taking deep breaths, he tried to remember that he had taken the subway  almost every day of his life and nothing bad had happened so far. 

1…2…3…

\--

«PETER?»

"Yes?", he said, gripping the front door frame of their apartment,the weight of his backpack suddenly feeling much greater. 

"Come here", warily, he walked towards his room to find his aunt staring at him with a look of worry and fury in her eyes at the same time. How was that even possible?

"Why is your room such a mess? I called Mr. Stark and he told me Happy didn’t drive you home last night, who were you with? I thought that we had agreed on midnight?"

It dawned on Peter that his nightly escapade wouldn’t be that easy to hide at all.

"I’m so sorry, aunt May, me and David talked all night and I completely forgot about Happy. David called a cab, you know, they’re all rich. I missed my alarm this morning, so I got dressed in a hurry"

In reality, he didn’t even _know_ how he got home. He was surprised he could string logical sentences together at that point.

"Peter Benjamin Parker…", May sighed, "We’re a team, remember? I can’t do this without you! Just…clean up your room", with that being said, May slammed the door behind her and moments later he could hear the TV being turned on.

Sighing, putting his backpack on the floor next to his desk and admiring the view of the sunset, he felt a moment of clarity. Going to a party with rich kids didn’t sound bad at all. He would just tell David that he didn’t want to do Clarity or whatever.

No, never mind, he wouldn’t go, it wasn’t his «scene». But it was good to know that in case he got bored he would have something to do. 

He grabbed his suit and jumped out of the window, the thrill of the chase catching up with him. He finally felt like himself again. 

It was a beautiful night.

Three more days until Friday. 

_«Peter? I’m so sorry, you know I love you», May closed the door behind her._

_Peter awoke, startled. But the door was closed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter:) and that you are not going insane during quarantine 
> 
> feel free to correct any mistakes or typos or suggest things you would like to see happen next, I will take them into consideration <3 take care of yourselves lovelies
> 
> fun fact that I didn't even know: MDMA is addictive. It's not purely a psychedelic and when it's in pill form it can actually be mixed with a bunch of stuff that you want even less like opiates, amphetamines etc.. honestly it's crazy to me how drugs are made out to be harmless by Gen Z (hi)


	4. Mouthwash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have adjusted the tags. If you need to find out more, meaning if it could trigger you, read the author's note at the end of the chapter first

Peter was listening to «Iron Man» by «Black Sabbath», his left hand nervously fiddling with the cable of his earphones. He had stayed at school way too long to finish a presentation on thermodynamics and its applications. He had assigned himself most of the work - the project was a group effort and he didn’t want to be the one pulling the others down. Now, he was paying the price. He hated this, he hated that he felt unsafe in his own neighborhood as soon as the sun set. He knew that most of his classmates could not relate, that they didn’t collect scholarship money every month in the form of books and supplies for school. Then again, he knew that he was incredibly lucky to even get a quality higher education. All of his old friends from preschool would jump at the the opportunities he was getting. Or, what his brain had gotten him and was continuing to get. 

The song playing through his speakers made him chuckle. He knew it was way too old to be written about Tony Stark but it was still funny to think about. If his mentor knew he was listening to that song, he would give him a lecture, thinking Peter was mocking him. That wasn’t it at all. He genuinely liked that song. Besides, he had started listening to it way before he knew Mr. Stark personally. Well, as personal as Mr. Stark could get.

"Peter? Peter Parker?", a bald-headed, 30- to 40-year-old man stopped Peter dead in his tracks. He pulled out one earphone. He really didn’t want to take out even one earphone but that man knew his name and he needed to know why. It physically hurt to remove what shielded him from the outside world. 

"H-how do you know me?"

" _Paradise Club_? You were with David, the skinny kid? You are quite the dancer!"

_Oh…_

"You want something? I got all kinds, uppers, downers, you name it"

"Um, I don’t know", Peter stepped closer. He wasn’t going to buy anything, he just wanted to see what the man was talking about. Besides, he was starting to remember bits and pieces. He could remember an intense feeling of warmth and comfort, _trust_ towards the bald-headed guy, David and the world. Like what he felt when the police showed up in time to prevent a robbery or when he saw the story on the news about that girl speaking in sign language to a deaf-blind man to keep him company on a lonely airplane. Basically whenever he was reminded there was goodness, structure in the world.

"How about an addie?"

Peter knew that the guy meant Adderall. He had heard Flash talk about it during recess, how it helped him study and that because of his ADHD he couldn’t focus without it.It was the most sober Peter had ever seen Flash talk. Peter would just buy it and then not take it. Keep it just in case he needed something to help him study harder, just like it helped Flash. Besides, if it was prescribed to someone in his grade then it couldn’t be so bad for him either? Even if that person was an asshole.

"You got any money on you, kid?"

Peter just stared at the man, too perplexed to answer. Of course it cost money to buy drugs. This was not David and his perfect connections. And how come he had called him a kid, was it so obvious that he was not 18 yet?

«Oh, come on, do not stare at me like that. I know a boy pretending to be a man when I see it. So, have you got 50 bucks?»

Peter shook his head. That was too expensive. He wanted to leave. He was seriously scared by the fact that his past self had just walked into an alleyway with a guy he didn’t even really _know_. And _to what end?_

The guy looked at him like he was considering something. 

«That’s alright. No, that is alright. There are other ways of paying me», the guy stepped closer and grabbed Peter’s crotch.

Peter felt himself go cold. Like the entire world had turned to ice and his heart was affected.He whispered

«I’ve got to go», 

and he ran. He ran for one block. Then, he stopped feeling his legs. He grabbed the tree next to him and threw up onto it. He fell to the concrete floor and started sobbing. He started pulling at his curls, trying to do anything to escape that horrible feeling. Everything started to jumble together, into one, piercing sound.

«Hey, kid, are you alright?»

«C’mon, Rosa, leave him alone. He’s just a kid, probably sad because he can’t find his mommy»

They didn’t look much older than he was but Peter wasn’t going to comment on faulty judgment, being in the state that he was. 

«I know, but he looks sick. Looks like he needs some medicine. Want some?»

Peter finally noticed the bottle in the girl, _Rosa’s_ , hand, wrapped up in a brown paper bag. That explained why they were just sitting on the ground like that, stagnant even though the air was chilly, making everyone’s breaths appear like dragon breath. And in that moment, he knew that he needed some warmth, anything to keep him company even if it was the company of strangers. Everything was better than that sinking feeling he could not escape otherwise. 

At least, alcohol was a natural disinfectant. He got that going for him. He chugged the bottle. He made a face but he swallowed. His throat was burning and he liked it. He deserved the pain.

«Hey guys, the kid took it»

«He drank it»

«Whaat»

Peter couldn’t feel any effects yet so he took another sip. Still nothing.

«Hey, guys, thank you so much but I can’t even feel anything», he held onto the railing behind him.

The others, there were about four or five them (he couldn’t tell anymore, how hilarious was that) started giggling. He assumed they were laughing at his inability to get drunk. 

Oh, things started to look distorted, out of place. He felt smarter and dumber at the same time. He took a large sip. It stopped burning. Then, he started to feel nothing. He liked that feeling a lot. It made the colors and sounds seem distant and bearable, not so distracting. He could focus on more than one thing at a time without a care in the world. It was very different from Clarity but it made him feel much better. It was not as imposing. 

«I’m not even drunk»,

Peter said to no-one in particular and dropped his head in his lap. He wanted to lift it up and to look at the beautiful trees surrounding him but he felt too numb and funny to do so. Someone, probably Rosa, started to rub his back, presumably to check if he was still breathing. 

«Okay, you’ve had enough»

She took the brown paper bag way from him. He wanted it back but he felt like if he said anything it would come out weird. So he stayed silent and tried to stop his head from spinning. 

«Aren’t you supposed to be at school anyways?», one of the guys said. He had black, fluffy hair and a serene smile on his face. 

«Aren’t you?»

Rosa nodded,

«Fair point, kid»

«What school do you go to?», another guy asked. His face looked weird but Peter managed to remember,

«Midtown School of Science and Technology»

«Woah, so you’re one of those really smart kids then»

«Uh, yeah, I think I’m really dumb though», Peter started giggling.

«Well, at least you don’t think you’re better than us like the rest of them», the other girl interjected.

Peter smiled. He felt understood.

_«Peter, buddy. What’s wrong?»_

_«I don’t want you to lea-eave», Peter hiccuped, «Plea-ease don’t leave, Uncle Ben»_

_«Buddy, you know I have to. How will May buy the ingredients for her famous spaghetti bolognese if I don't get to go to work? The important thing is that I’ll always come back. Always for you, kid»_

_«P-promise?»_

_«Promise»_

Two more days until Friday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //summary of what happens that could be triggering: Peter gets groped by a 30- to 40-year-old man. nothing like this will happen again during the rest of the fic but of course it will continue to affect Peter for the rest of the fic. I used sexual harassment as a tag but it could just as well be considered molestation. but since this happens to so many young people out there it's hard to distinguish between the two. please know that I will handle the subject respectfully and that there will be no romanticizing of what happened to him
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Feel free to share thoughts in the comments <3


	5. ADHD

Grey lockers were opening and closing, a quiet hum in the air. The hubbub of laughter and shouting got increasingly louder. Peter ruffled his curls to make sure they were voluminous and did not stick to his forehead. It was 7AM.

"Peter, dude!"

"Hey, dude. What have you been up to?", Peter asked like every morning. The answer was usually LEGOS or Astronomy. He liked that about Ned. He was consistent.

"I got the Apollo 11 Lunar Lander LEGO set off of Ebay for only 40 dollars. I brought it with me, look", 

Ned opened his backpack to reveal his treasure,

"Since Mr Harrington is sick, we could use the free periods to see how much we can build"

"What? Ned, that is so awesome!", Peter could feel the excitement rushing in. Most of Ned’s parents’ «spare» money usually went towards his tuition, and absolutely all of May’s money went towards rent, food and public transport. That did not leave a lot of pocket money between him and his best friend, so this was exceptionally exciting.

"So what did _you_ do last night? I couldn’t reach you. I wanted to discuss _The Flash_ with you!"

"Um…you know me, I went straight home and did my homework"

"Ah", Ned hesitated, "but you watched the new _Flash_ episode, no?"

"Of course I did", Peter allowed himself a small smile. 

"Well, what did you think of the cross-over?"

"I’m not sure"

"Yeah, me neither, I mean…"

They took a seat right when the teacher walked in. Peter was thrilled and wary at the same time. He loved Chem lab but he was still not feeling at a hundred percent of his intellectual capacities. He should never have taken that pill. He debated on telling Ned but he quickly became aware that if Ned knew, he would freak out and that was unnecessary. It was in the past, he needed to move on. So, he moved on.

…

"Hey, that piece fits right there"

"Peter"

"Peter!"

"PETER!"

…

"Huh? Sorry, I must have zoned out"

Peter could not stop drifting off. Still, he enjoyed putting the pieces together. Solving a mystery. He loved this, finally having some free time with Ned like they used to have all the time.

After they were about halfway through the build, he checked his phone to see what time it was. 

"What? Ned, it’s 11:30! You know I need to work on my presentation!"

He had agreed to work on a new prototype with Mr. Stark on Saturday, so it was absolutely crucial that he got most of his school work done before that. He could not do everything in one day, he had tried. 

"Come on, Peter, the main part is almost done, we could finish it today if we eat lunch quick!"

And Peter knew it was wrong, knew he had other things to do.

"Come ooon, Peter. You know it’s worth it!"

Well, whatever, he would just divide and conquer in the evening. It would be fine.

"Okay, yes"

«Yesss», Ned looked ecstatic.  


He would be fine.

\--

Balancing an apple in the palm of his left hand, Peter sighed.

He tapped his pen against the table, debating on how he was going to get everything done, condemning his past self for having fun when he should have been working. It was already five in the afternoon and he needed to get a decent amount of sleep or he would be no use at school. He took a bite of his apple.

There was a quick knock and May opened his bedroom door.

"Peter? I made the dinner reservation for seven, so be ready by ten to. We don’t want to keep Alfredo waiting, you know he will just give our table to someone else"

_Oh, no!_ He groaned. Of course that was today of all days. Of course he had forgotten, he was _useless:_ Their monthly dinner at «Acquista Trattoria». Normally he loved their tradition but on days where his schedule was so tightly packed that it suffocated him to even think about it, a tradition just felt like another thing on his to-do list. 

Scrap that, May worked hard to earn them a honest living and implement traditions like these. That meant that he could not skip out on them even if he suffered. He had to go and pretend everything was normal while still getting all of his homework and studying done before the weekend. 

He needed to be work fast, then. Be speedy. He knew what he had to do:

It was bold, he knew it was stupid, but he had no other choice. He needed to finish that presentation and Spanish homework, English literature in time and go to dinner with Aunt May. He could not let the fact that he had taken one pill affect his academic performance.If he had gotten it wrong and Rosa did not have access to drugs, he would be in trouble. Although she did not seem like the type of girl to snitch. He had seen her drink underage so maybe not. Maybe she would keep his secret. He grabbed a pillow and sat down on his twin bed, nervously chewing on his nails.

Five minutes later, a silent ping made him jump up.

Suddenly, he felt an urge to throw his phone across the room.He could not do it. He could not be that guy. He had promised himself. He did not break promises.

Besides, buying those pills probably meant using up all of his savings and he needed those in case things got tight with rent, gas, anything, if he wrecked yet another backpack but did not want to bother Mr. Stark, his _mentor_ , about it. Certainly not May. She could never know that he willingly put himself in danger on a regular basis:

He hesitated. If it was free then there was really no harm in at least accepting the offer. Growing up with money being tight, he knew that stowing away free things never meant any harm. Maybe he could even keep the pills for another time when he really needed them. Before his finals, for example.

"I’m going out for a bit, my head feels like it is going to explode", he walked past May on his way out.

"Okay", May said. She was watching the news.

"Wait, Peter, take a jacket with you-", but he was already gone.

\--

Stepping outside his apartment complex, he could feel his hands starting to shake. He got the irrational feeling that everyone was watching him, that they knew. That the old Polish lady that sometimes knocked on their door in the middle of the night was actually a disguised Russian spy, just waiting to catch him out on what he was doing - er, planning to do.

It took some time to find the spot where he had ran to the day before because of - no, not that again, that never happened - but finally he saw Rosa’s bleached shock of hair. They shook hands.

"Peter", she smiled, "I did not expect to see you again so quickly but I’ll take it"

He stared at her, unable to get a word out.

  
"So, in a few moments I am going to give you a quick hug and slip the pills into your front pocket. For future reference: You will do the same thing with future payments. Into my front pocket, so we do not raise suspicions. After the hug, you will wave goodbye and walk away, understood?"

Peter nodded. He understood.

They hugged and with a small pack of pills in his jacket, Peter waved goodbye, feeling a bit uneasy because seeing Rosa in a sober state made him think of what had happened the day before. Rosa pulled him back in to whisper one last thing. Her hand resting on his shoulder felt like a thousand ants were crawling across his skin.

"Peter? Anything you need, I can get you. You can always come to me"

Something dawned on Peter:

"Wait, you sell drugs? I thought your friend did"

For the first time, Rosa looked a bit uneasy, almost ashamed.

"He does. I do too. The stuff is mine, I just didn’t want you to be scared or pull back"

Peter had no time to dwell on the morality of drug dealing because the pills felt like they were  burning a hole into his pocket and he knew May was expecting him to be back soon. Besides, his  moral compass was on as loose grounds as anyone’s. Even if the pills _were_ for a good cause.

"Thank you for the offer and the free stuff, Rosa, but I will not be needing any more _favors_. I just  needed these because school is a bit stressful at the moment. I would never do this normally"

"You say that", she scoffed, "but you chugged that rum like it was your day job"

"Just a one-off", she yelled to no-one in particular, "sure"

Peter did not even want to respond because it seemed ridiculous that she would make assumptions about him needing pills in the future when she did not know him at all or how hard he worked, so he just left. One conversation they could hardly remember and suddenly she thought she knew his life? Pathetic. He had a group project to organize.

\--

"Peter? We should go", May yelled from the kitchen.

"Sorry guys, I have to sign off now but I do think we have everything planned?"

Everyone in his group nodded. 

"Okay, then, talk to you guys on Monday. We’ll rehearse at lunch"

—

"A special pizza fatta in casa for my special friends"

"Thank you, Alfredo", Peter smiled.

He smiled thankfully at Aunt May but she looked like she was deep in thought. Alfredo tactfully  moved on to another table.

"Aunt May?"  


"I have been meaning to apologize for the way that I acted. Things have been stressful at work"

"May, it’s fine-"

"No, it is not fine, I took it out on you and I’m sorry. Forgive me"

Peter contemplated it for a few seconds.

"It’s okay, I know you have a lot on your plate", he smiled shyly. 

May moved her hand across the table and squeezed his tightly.

"Tomorrow night we’ll watch a movie together, just the two of us, hm? How about we watch that goofy show you like?"

"STAR TREK?"

"Yes, that one"  


"Aunt May, Star Trek is not goofy, Spock is extremely intelligent and a perfect example how in many ways, in research or otherwise, human emotions are holding us back!"

"So, in what way are your emotions holding you back?"

Peter lowered his gaze. Wow, she was good. He had not meant to let that slip. 

"I just meant that", he muttered, "emotions do no good when trying to achieve the things  that you want in life"

"No. Peter. Peter? That is not good. That is _not_ good! If you ever feel overwhelmed, you come talk  to me, okay? You can not hold the bad things in, they will consume you"

Peter felt himself choking up.

"I just feel like…I am not actually smart and I am just fooling everyone. Like they will think less of  me once they realize that I am just ordinary"

"There is nothing, nothing wrong with being ordinary, you hear me? But you have always been  smart, me and your uncle always knew that. Your parents would be proud of you. They _are_ proud of you"

"You don’t know that"

"No, I do. And you better know it too. Okay?"

Peter nodded.

"You sure? Because I will tell you until you believe me. They are proud of you. They are proud of you. THEY ARE-"

"Yes, alright, May, stop", he cut her off amusedly, finally feeling like himself again. That sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach stopped. 

Back home, he said a quick goodnight to May, his stomach feeling full and his head feeling sleepy. He could definitely not study for more than two hours without passing out. He yawned. It was settled, then. He needed the help.

He walked back to front door where his jacket was and took out the pack of pills. He kept looking if there was anyone behind him but May had probably fallen right asleep. 

He walked into his room and closed the door. Sadly, May had gotten rid of all the keys a long time ago. He would just have to be careful.

He carved out two of the eight pills, put the remaining six under his mattress and just stared at the drugs in his hands. He felt like he was slightly more awake already.

Was he really going to do this? The last pill that he had taken had ruined everything.

But this was _different_ from the Ecstasy, it would better his performance.

He poured himself a glass of water and swallowed the two. Two, because he wanted the effects of them to last long enough in spite of his fast metabolism. He had a lot to do after all and he required more than the average human being. Maybe it would not work on him at all. In that case, it was probably a sign that he should not do it and he would find a better way.

He waited. After a couple of minutes he felt ready and got to work.

He had not felt so confident about his work since before he went to Midtown. Now, he knew that he was definitely the best and smartest student in the entire school.

Maybe the lights were a bit brighter than usual and some of his thoughts made too much sense for him to handle but it was nothing bad. Because the thoughts that were not jumbled together were cohesive and were getting work done that he had been procrastinating for weeks. Also, it kept him awake. He just needed to be smart about it. Also, Flash took adderall every day. So, it was probably healthy.

At about 3 AM, he sank into his pillowcase and after listening to his heart beat slower and slower, he fell into a deep slumber.

He opened his eyes two nightmares later, awake and afraid.

"Peter? Peter, what’s wrong?", startled, Peter looked up, right into May’s concerned, warm, loving face.

"N-nothing. I thought you were…gone", Peter started sniffling, tears seeming inevitable.  


May pulled him into a hug.

"Oh, honey, no. It’s okay. How about a glass of warm milk? You can tell me all about your dream"

She dragged him into the kitchen, seated him at the kitchen table and pointed at the fridge:

"Oat milk?"

"Yes, please"

She boiled them both a glass of milk and put it on the table.

"So, what happened in your dream?"

  
Peter loved this, it took him back to earlier memories, moments when Ben was still alive.

"I honestly can’t remember"

May sighed.

"So, you woke me up for this? Peter Benjamin Parker!", 

she sounded stern but the spark in her eyes said something different.

After a few sips, Peter realized that he needed to tell her.

"May?"

  
  
"Hm?"

"I’m sorry"

«Sorry for what, honey?»

And Peter did not want to disturb the peacefulness of the moment, one that he had been missing and said:

"I’ll tell you tomorrow"

They drank their milk and then both went to bed, his heart heavy.

It was settled, in the morning he would tell her about the Ecstasy. Maybe even about the drinking.

One more day until Friday

_The stranger grabbed him against his will._

_He felt cold, ice cold. He could not breathe. How had he let someone do that to him?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! As you can see this chapter is definitely my longest yet! That describes perfectly how this pandemic is starting to feel longer and longer...
> 
> Tell me what you think in the comments below :)


	6. T.G.I.F.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things just go wrong

When Peter woke up the next morning, he finally felt lighter. Groggy, tired, but his chest felt less concave. He rubbed his eyes and hated the fact they burned. He did not want to feel the pain of the past anymore, he just wanted to live.

  
  
He took a shower and loved the way in which the water drops dripped down the small of his back. A wave of negativity overcame him. He put his head against the shower wall and wallowed in his sadness. He felt real. Reality hurt but maybe it was time to confront it.

  
  
When arriving in the kitchen, he noticed that May was not there. In fact, she had not made him breakfast. He sighed. It was a luxury, of course, but a tradition that he appreciated nonetheless. Friday was the one morning in the week where she did not have to work and making him breakfast was her way of telling him that she loved him. At least, he had always understood it in that way.

He found a note on the table:

  
  
_Buongiorno, angelino_

_Mariana is sick so I have to fill in_

_for her today._

_There’s bananas in the fridge_

_Love, May_  


  
Peter sighed. Yesterday had been so amazing and now he missed May already. He knew it was just breakfast but he liked having breakfast with her. He poured himself a bowl of oatmeal and ate three bananas. That would hopefully last him until lunch. May had been complaining about having to buy groceries every three days and he could not blame her. After all, she had no idea that his new metabolism burned calories faster than he could chew.

  
  
He smiled to himself. That was the only cool thing about him. The only thing that was interesting, even if no-one knew about his alter ego. He knew about it and that was enough.

  
  
Another thought popped into his head. Now that May was not here, did that mean he would not tell her what had been constricting the air in his lungs?

  
  
Wait, no, he would have to tell her in the evening. Fuck, he did not want to burden her.

  
  
He would deal with it later.  


  
\--  


Lunch was quiet. Too quiet. Of course, everyone around them was screaming, nevertheless Ned simply poked around in the food that had been served to them on that Friday. Noodles and something indescribable. Maybe their contemporaries were screaming because the lunch was so bad. But unlike any other day where Ned would have complained about it, it he stayed silent. Which was truly unnerving to Peter because Ned was never silent. Critiquing most things might have marked Ned as ungrateful in other people's eyes, but not in Peter's. Peter wished he could be as confident as his best friend about sharing his opinions and thoughts with the world, hence he admired Ned for doing so. But how could he ever share what was on his mind when it was darker than everything else around him?

Peter cleared his throat. An apology was due. He knew when his best friend was masking hurt feelings. He had always been able to tell when other people had masks on. Maybe because he enjoyed wearing one so much himself?

"I am sorry that I have been a bit off during the past few days"

Ned looked up, clearly surprised at the unexpected honesty. It was fabricated, but Ned did not need to know that. Maybe if things with May went better than expected, he would tell him the truth of what had gone down.

"I think that maybe I caught the flu but only showed light to no symptoms? I was feeling dizzy yesterday. So, yeah, please don’t take it personally"

"Oh, yeah, like asymptomatic? We learned that in biology, that is so awesome!"

Peter shot him a quizzical look.

"I mean, it is not. Not awesome. Totally uncool", Ned quickly retracted his statement.

Peter sighed. They were definitely nerds. But Ned did not seem resentful.

Ned stared at him expectantly like he was dying to say something.

"What is it?", Peter asked, slightly relieved at his friend talking to him again.

"I have been watching tutorials on Youtube on how to build the Apollo 11 Lunar Lander and it turns out we got the bottom part wrong!", Ned exclaimed.

"What? No, no way, Ned!", Peter exclaimed, offended but inwardly smiling at the fact that his friend had clearly accepted his apology.

"Yeah, you have to put the middle pieces in first, I’ll show you!"

"What? That can’t be right"

"Are you okay, Peter? You look sad",

MJ suddenly interrupted them. It was rare for her to even say more than two words, which explained why Ned looked completely taken aback when he had been fully immersed in explaining where they had gone wrong just moments before.

Peter stared at her, really looked at her. How did she always know?

"I mean, sadder than usual, loser", she quickly glanced away, clearly embarrassed.  


Peter relaxed. For a moment she had almost seemed genuinely concerned about his well-being. He was probably just imagining things.

  
  
\--  


After school, he had to stop walking towards the subway station that was situated right next to his school in order to catch his breath. As the moment of confession grew closer, he felt like there were huge, concrete walls shutting down on him. And they were moving at a quick pace. He sat down on a park bench and tried to breathe, but his lungs would not oblige. He stayed there in a hunched-down and trembling position for about half an hour until his legs felt like he could walk again. Peter stood up and left the scene as quickly as possible. In typical New York fashion, no-one had stopped to ask if he was okay.

He thought this was supposed to be a «nicer area». May always reprimanded him when he described his school's location to her friends in that way but it was simply realistic. There were no crazy ladies beating up their husbands, very few homeless people on the sidewalk. The trees were green and the air was almost…fresh. In New York’s terms: The area was a true paradise.

He laid eyes on the many people walking in and out of the subway station and the uneasy feeling in his chest started getting out of control again. Logically, he knew that there was nothing to be afraid of, it was the same subway that he took everyday. But mentally, he felt like there was a huge fire inside of his gut and with every deep breath of air he was adding fuel to it. So, it was settled. He would walk home.

Strolling home alongside the promenade, he started reflecting on what had just happened. Had he just had…a panic attack? No, it could not have been that. Anything but that. He had just been a little bit nervous, it was nothing to worry about. But still…if that were to happen in front of May, she would start worrying about him again, like she had after Ben’s death. That could not happen.

He had spent the year after Ben died wrapped up in the little cocoon that was his blanket and quietly sitting in his chair at school, dazed and unable to focus. The images of Ben’s gunshot wound and his soul fading out of existence always present in his mind and reminding him how useless he had been. Luckily, his best friend was there to keep him from falling apart. In fact, he kept him from missing school completely.

Ned relentlessly explained Star Trek, Legos, the Avengers to Peter even if it was an an unreserved monologue. He ignored everyone that teased him about being friends with «the quiet kid» or «the poor orphan». He even told off the science teacher that kept trying to call on Peter. The more he talked to him - and he talked to him a considerable lot - the more interested Peter became. As time went on, they became equally invested in the culture, fictional and non-fictional until Peter finally bought Star Trek: Next Generation and they spent most of their school nights watching the show and discussing it with each other. It was good because it gave him purpose. It was good because it was real.

Something about spending time with Ned made Peter feel less guilty about feeling joy and having fun despite having been too weak to save Uncle Ben. Maybe because Ben had always liked Ned and told Peter that if he had a friend like Ned, he would never be alone. Ben was right. Ned had always stuck with him. And a part of him felt that by following Ben’s advice, he was keeping him alive.

His absences at school had no effect on his grades. After him and Ned had both gotten accepted into Midtown, their days were filled with science and subjects that they both excelled in. Yes, it took up a lot of their time, but learning so much about a subject that he loved was worth it. In the end, Ned had silently taught him how to live again. And, more importantly, how he could stop worrying May.

And then, the bite happened. Going to a science school there was always talk about human experiments and their unethical procedures but he had of course never even dreamed of being the subject of one. And yet he had wandered off and lost his group on that fateful field trip day and suddenly, he was something not entirely human anymore. Part spider. His entire life fell apart. At first, after the natural fascination had subdued, he felt empty. Like something had been taken from him, the sense of normality that he had been trying to achieve all along. That subtle emptiness made it hard for him to concentrate.

Many sleepless nights followed, mainly because he could hear the neighbors' heartbeats and screams and even though he tried very hard, he could not shut them out. May started asking if he was sleeping enough hours again. That made him try to block it out, but sleeping in his bed was now as uncomfortable as sitting in the subway had been before, all the noises and suffering becoming too much to handle. He heard what no-one else did, what people hid so carefully outside of their homes in areas like theirs. Cheating husbands and drunken wives, shattering glass and crying children. No-one would save them. No-one protected them. 

Then, one night, Ben visited him in a dream. He told Peter that he loved him and that he needed to use his powers wisely. That with great power comes great responsibility. Something important inside of him changed that night. The next day, he made sound-proof earphones out of old scraps that he found inside of the garbage next to his apartment block. They were not perfect because he could not afford bought materials but they were good enough to help him sleep. Maybe the motivation for making them had been the emotions of seeing Ben again, maybe it was something far above guiding him. He would never know and he honestly did not care.

From that moment on he understood that his new-found fast metabolism, strength and heightened senses were all tools for an opportunity to do good. In that moment, Spider-Man was born. Wearing that suit and mask and fighting crime on a daily basis made him realize that there is always a way to do good for the people around you, even during times of extreme hardships. That even if you do not know them and they do not know you, you can still have a direct positive impact on their lives and they on yours. That no matter how bleak things seem, they rarely are.

An idea popped into his head and ripped him out of the sense of nostalgia that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. A small smile made its way across his face as he realized what he would do and that he actually could do something make things easier.

He started paying closer attention to the signs on the buildings around him until he found what he was looking for. He entered the shop that he had picked out and hoped that they had what he needed. There. There they were.

Violets. May’s favorite flowers. She had always told him that violet was the color of humility. Well, she would need a generous amount of faith today. So did he. He added two batches of flowers to his cart.

He paid the cashier a quarter of his savings. There were sixty dollars left.

"You done something wrong?", the cashier asked him.

Peter smiled. The man had understood the superstition. There were many Catholics in and around their area. May never dragged him to church nor were his beliefs particularly firm but there was something about them that made him feel at home. 

"No, I am making something right. Thanks", he accepted the bag that was offered to him, «Have a pleasant day»

"Don’t mess it up. You seem like a good kid"

"I won’t", Peter muttered but he was already standing outside of the building.

He tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that dark alleyways gave him now, they way he kept glancing back and forth, always waiting for that person to show up. Luckily, it was still relatively light outside. And there were only a few blocks left. Still, he had to count the cracks underneath his feet to distract himself. What was wrong with him? The last time he did that he was still a child. He was supposed to be grown now.

After three tries of opening their front door and finally pulling it open, he immediately started setting the table. He poured them two glasses of water and watered the violets. Hopefully, May would be home soon. He wanted to surprise her, she had been so stressed out. He had been scared of telling her anything and for no reason at all. She just needed to listen to him and it would all be alright. He had it all planned out: He would explain how he would never do it again and she would cry. That would be the end of it.

Slowly, he took a seat at the table and waited. Two and a half hours, a lot of glasses of water and the completion of his English literature homework later, he was getting worried. He was about to call May, when he got a text message.

He tried texting May that he preferred Star Trek over Star Wars and explaining that she needed to pay close attention to the differences of the two, but tears were blurring his vision. An involuntary whimper escaped his lips and he swiped at his eyes. He needed to stop being so emotional. But she had told him that she would watch the show with him! She had promised! He was a fool for believing her.

That was it, that was his sign. Clearly the universe did not want him to tell her. Clearly, he just needed to deal with it himself. He had to do _everything himself. Every. Fucking. Thing._

A ball of energy was forming in the pit of his stomach that had nowhere to go. He needed somewhere else to release the energy, so he smashed the two glasses of water. Of course they would be expensive to replace but nothing mattered any more than getting rid of that horrible feeling of panic and anger, the feeling of being overwhelmed. He knew it was wrong but there was nothing else he could have done. He took the violets out of the vase and threw them down the fire escape.

The neighbors would appreciate them more anyways. He could hear them fighting downstairs. How was it that his aunt was working to an excess and they were still stuck in an unsafe neighborhood? He knew his apartment block from the inside out, the blue stairs, every crack in the wall - And he knew that it was no place for a child to grow up in. 

He had always envied the children that could play outside all day like he saw on television. He wondered if they envied him. His ability to watch TV. Well, he would rather not have had a TV and have gone outside on his own. When Ben was still alive, he was allowed to play outside more often because May was able to take time off thanks to Ben's job as a police officer. He gulped. Now, Ben was dead. And he would never be alive again. On the other hand, he was lucky to have get a quality higher education. Many people did not have what he had already. He just needed to work hard and he would get far enough. And he would get May out, too.

He sat down and put his head into the palm of his hands. His anger subsided a little bit, replaced by determination and a little bit of sadness. Finally, after he realized that he wanted somewhere to go, somewhere other than the place that reminded him of his unbelievably embarrassing outburst, he put on the suit. He would rather be in the blinding lights than alone in his darkened room, just him and his thoughts, any day. 

He cleaned up the two glasses and wiped the floor and the table.

Moments later, he jumped out the window. Swinging from building to building, each one taller than the last, he could feel a sense of tranquility. Nothing in the world could trump the feeling of flying through the sky. 

Suddenly, his spider sense flared up. Seconds later, he heard something shatter behind him. Then, screaming. A woman that needed his help. 

As he arrived at the scene, he noticed that it was not a robbery. The guy, he…he was trying to…assault her. His senses went haywire. Every hair follicle inside of his skin stood up. 

He roughly pushed the girl to the side and grabbed the guy’s jacket.

"What do you think you are doing, huh? Do you think this is funny?"

Suddenly, he was pushing him up against the wall. He felt strong, invincible. Everything around him was too bright and blinding, so he closed his eyes and put his hands on the guy’s throat. Making that guy suffer was the only way to get the pain to stop.

_"Peter. If you don’t stop restricting airflow within 5.0 seconds, the impact could be fatal"_

_ "Karen?" _

He finally let the guy go and webbed him to the wall. The guy started coughing loudly underneath the webs and he couldn’t care less.

"You could have ruined her life. Do you even get that?", he yelled. His breaths started becoming irregular after he realized the insane thing that he had almost done. Quickly, he used the integrated knives in his suit to cut open a small part of the webs in order for that monster not to die. No monster was worth going to jail for. 

"Bastard", he muttered under his breath. The guy stayed limp, like he knew not to argue. Good. 

Then, he noticed how the woman had not moved at all. She was gripping the brick wall behind her, trembling and cowering on the ground. Clearly, she was in need of his help. Spider-Man’s help.

"Hey, lady, it’s okay. What’s your name?"

"How can it be okay? It can never be okay, he tried to-", she looked up.

"W-who are you?"

"I'm Spider-Man"

_"Karen?"_

_"Yes, Peter?"_

_"Alert the police"_

_"Should I inform them that it is an attempted sexual assault?"_

_"Yes, tell them"_ , his voice trembled slightly.

"Look, the nearest police station is only two miles away, so they should be here in a couple of minutes. I'm Spider-Man, I try to protect the people around here and help arrest the bad guys. Now, tell me, what's your name?"

She started bawling, clearly having realized that he was not out to get her, that he had in fact saved her.

"I-I’m Ava"

Peter could merely sit right beside her as emergency comfort until the police showed up. His left hand that he had placed on her shoulder blade was shaking; he could barely stay seated. He needed to get himself under control.

\--

He rubbed his eyes, overlooking the skyline. From up there, humanity could have seemed small if it wasn't for the fact that he could hear everyone like they were standing right next to him.

_"Karen, activate wave repulsor"_

Immediately, the world turned silent.

But, the silence was deafening. He needed more. He needed somewhere else to go, where he did not know anyone that expected too much from him, where he could just chill:

He pulled on his hair. He could be such an idiot at communicating with people. David probably thought of him as a loser for texting so early on in the evening. He was such a moron! He had thought that eight o'clock was a pretty reasonable time to start a party. Then again, he did not know much about parties. Hence him not going was probably for the best, that way he could not embarrass himself any further. He would go home. He had a lot of homework to do. It was a blessing in disguise, really. Sort of. 

He would just enjoy the calm for a few more minutes. He laid down and looked up to the sky. The place was probably clean, seeing as most people were not able to climb onto a skyscraper's roof so easily. The sky was dark and unrevealing as ever. He wondered if somewhere up there, Uncle Ben was watching over him. And his parents, too.

He ran his fingers over the rough concrete floor. Strange how once could build such a huge structure so quickly nowadays. If MJ was with him, she would tell him about how the pyramids were built by slaves. How they sweat and starved while the Pharaoh sat on his throne. That power should never be given to one man alone. He smiled. She was cute. And she was right. He had been given the power out of complete nothing, he had had no control over how much he got. But he _could_ control how he approached people when he was in his suit, always keeping in mind that he could hurt them much more than they could hurt him. That was why he had programmed Karen to make sure that she alert him if he ever got out of control. Still, he never thought such a thing would ever come up. And there he was.

He jumped up, a sudden rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins. He had done it. He would attend the party. No, he would not go. - Yeah, he would. Okay, first of all he needed to find out where 212 Fifth Avenue was. He had never heard of it, so he looked up the address.

Manhattan, of course. He could not get a cab there, it was too expensive and would burn through the rest of his savings. And it was idiotic. Getting a cab in New York was something rich people did. Then, he stroked his hand over the red and blue material that engulfed his entire body. He could not. The suit was given to him strictly for patrolling and the occasional mission. But what choice did he have?

He checked his backpack. Luckily, he had packed the suit that Mr. Stark had made for him and that he had to swear he would always have with him in case that he was invited to an important event or emergency press conference. Thankfully, the latter had not happened so far.

Swinging through the city kind of felt underwhelming for the first time, maybe because he knew something much more nerve-wracking but also exciting was coming. Meeting David and his friends. Hopefully, they would like him. 

\--

"Peter! I was starting to think that you were not going to show up!"

"Yeah, sorry, there was a lot of traffic"

Peter could not believe that huge couches like that even existed. He tried not to stare. David quickly introduced him.

"Peter, this is Travis, this is my new friend Peter, Tony Stark's intern"

"Nice to meet you guys", he awkwardly gave Travis a hug, trying to keep it cool.

"Wait? Peter? You don’t happen to know Roberto?", Travis inquired.  


"Roberto?"  


"Yeah, he provides me with pills if my regular's out of town"

"To make sure me and my friends don't run out of candy", Travis squeezed David's shoulders. David looked pained, clearly Travis had pinched him hard but he did not protest.

"Look, that's him", Travis showed Peter his phone screen. And Peter got a sinking feeling. Because that was _him_. 

"He said you wouldn’t put out, but I’m guessing he was just joking", another guy added.

"Was he?", the guy quirked up an eyebrow. 

Peter realized that he had worded it like a question.

"No, I’m straight", he shuddered and put his hand on his throat, trying to make the lump in his throat go away by sheer willpower. Somewhere inside of his tear glands, tears were starting to form but he managed to avoid crying. He was such a wuss.

"Marcus, stop harassing the new kid. Sorry, he’s gay", the guy sitting next to Marcus tried to explain.

"I think everyone is gay"

"Shut up, Marcus"

Peter dug his fingers into the couch cushions. Quickly, he wiped away a tear that still had managed to make its way into the corner of his eye. 

"It's alright"

He excused himself to go to the bathroom. After he came back, David pulled him aside:

"Hey, Peter, what was that about? Did he bother you? Because I can sort him out, you know I will"

"No, no, it’s all good. Thank you for offering though"

He could have told David in that moment, he really could have. There was nothing physically preventing him from doing so but a part of him didn’t help but think that he deserved to be in pain for what had happened to him. Besides, he definitely never wanted to deal with that guy ever again. Also, if Tony found out he would make it into a huge deal - which it was _not_ \- and make him want to come clean about how it had happened and he would have to tell him about the booze and Clarity and he was not quite ready to let go of them just yet. Of there at least being a possibility of getting away from everything.

"Want a beer?"

And he wanted to say no, he really could have. But he wanted to feel warm. 

"Yes, thank you"

A beer contained basically no alcohol, so it was fine. It tasted disgusting anyways, so it was not like he would ever drink it again.

Before he knew it, he had downed a couple more glasses. But only because Travis kept reaching him ones and he was too shy to refuse. And he was kind of starting to get dizzy, physically unable to refuse.

In the car, he noticed how the world felt kind of good. Not just because he was sitting in a limousine with beautiful big windows and champagne but because he felt comfortable. Like, yes, he did not know anyone besides David but so what? Everyone is a stranger until they are not. He was supposed to remember something but it was hard to concentrate when someone was filling his glass with champagne. The taste of champagne was actually way better than beer. Someone in the group said something that made him laugh really hard and he didn’t even know why he was laughing. That made him laugh even louder. Before he knew it, they were at the desired location. He felt really badass, going to a late-night party. It was actually kind of funny that he was there since he had not planned on going at all. He was not mad about it. It actually felt pretty good, made the world look a little bit nicer.

"What? Come on, bro, we're 21! Our friends are waiting inside", _oh, David was arguing with the bouncer._

"Right. All of you are leaving, right now"

"Is there a problem here?", a man with a beer in hand interrupted. Peter would find out later that he was the one throwing the party.

"No, sir. These kids are trying to get into the club"

"They are with me"

The bouncer gave the dude a mean glare but he let them in.

But shortly after they had handed their coats and jackets to the lady at the entrance, David split up the group.

"Um, I actually need a smoke. Anyone coming with?"

At least half of the people present agreed to go with, Peter included, seeing as he did not know the other people well enough and he never knew what to say in these types of situations. Also, his terrible dance moves were probably undeserved.

They were leaning on the outside walls of the building when David handed him a cigarette.

Peter took a drag and immediately started coughing. 

"You have to inhale. Watch and learn"

David took the cigarette away and made a few smoke rings. 

"Woah"

Peter tried it again. He did not succeed but the drag felt better. Kind of chill. 

After a few minutes of shivering out in the cold, they went back inside.

Him and David watched the crowd dance around. He was glad to have his senses dialled down as otherwise he would not have been able to handle the screams and the music bursting his eardrums. Strange how David was holding out too, he did not exactly have heightened senses. He looked disgruntled as well.

"Is everything alright?", he finally asked.

"Yeah, it's just that my mom is in St. Tropez with her new lover and it kind of sucks. Like, I don't get why she never wants to be _here_? In New York, I mean"

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that", inwardly, Peter rolled his eyes at the other boy. If May got a boyfriend, he would be happy for her. If May went to _St. Tropez_ , he would be happy for her.

"No, that's alright"

On the other side of the room, Peter could see a few kids preparing a few lines of white powder. Soon enough, they were jumping around the room.

David gave him a glance:

"We won't touch that shit"

"No, of course not"

He pulled out a little baggie and handed Peter a pill. It was a blue one this time. Peter placed it on the tip of his tongue.

"Thank you for doing this with me"

"Yeah, of course"

And Peter bent with the waves.

\--

They could hear muffled voices from outside but Peter did not seem to care. Nothing really mattered anyways. He loved life. Why had he not realized this before? It did not matter what other people thought, it only mattered what he thought. HE was the KING OF HIS OWN UNIVERSE

_"But my only question is: Where does this end? I mean, all lives end in death, don’t they?"_

"Woah, a bit dark there, my friend. The way I see it, this is more of a way to take the edge off, you know? When my parents, everything becomes too much, I come here. And I always FEEL GREAT, don’t you?"

"Yeah, but not after", Peter mumbled.

"Huh?"

"I mean, I don’t feel great after"

"That’s the catch. With the highs come the lows. That is just the way of life. It is our natural state of being. You can not get high without being low, you can not get low without being high. Getting high makes us realize how tiny our problems really are. When we forget about our problems, we gain perspective. They call us the lost youth, why not at least enjoy being lost?"

"Maybe"

What was he, and who was he to dismiss being lost anyway? 

\--

He opened his eyes and everything felt wrong. The carpet underneath his feet still felt amazingly soft but his head hurt. 

He entered the kitchen, feeling his headache getting stronger. He did not care what David said, hangovers were annoying.

"Peter, are you getting a cold?", May put her hand on his forehead.

"May? What are you doing here?"

May ignored his objections and checked his temperature.

"Huh, no fever. That’s good. Do you want some ginger tea?"

"No, thank you. But really, what are you doing here? I thought you would be at work"

"I reached the legal amount of hours that I am allowed to, the hospital sent me home so I could rest for a couple of hours"

"Oh"

"Is there something else going on?"

"No"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, May. Wow, you never trust me"

Peter internally cringed at himself saying that. He wasn’t a liar. 

"Sweetheart, I did not mean that I do not trust you. I'm just worried"

"Okay, but you don't have to worry about me", Peter scoffed, knowing fully well that he was bluffing. But he had missed his chance, it was too late now.

And if on his way to school he entered the nearest store and slid a packet of cigarettes into his back pockets that was his business. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I TELL YOU that this chapter took a looong time to write! I hope you can see why ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯. Thank you so much for everyone's support on the last chapter! I love to hear you guys' opinions, so pretty please leave a comment?


	7. Intervention

Peter moved his hand into his suit jacket, reaching for something. Everyone around him was indulged in politically charged conversations and well-paced drinks of champagne and David was stuck being lectured by his dad about another one of his transgressions (he had drawn out money from his dad’s account); Mr. Stark being nowhere to be seen. Another gala.

His fingertips were twitching for something different now. There, he could feel them - He needed another smoke. Just a single cigarette, perhaps two. But he couldn’t do it here, where everyone was watching. The congressman would probably not appreciate a 15-year-old smoking cigarettes inside of his obscenely huge dining hall. Old people were _so_ boring. Well, except for…Mr. Stark but that was why it was so important that he not find out. He would make a big deal out of nothing, maybe even confuse _his_ past experiences for Peter’s.

"Peter!", someone yelled. Or maybe they had simply spoken at a normal volume. With his heightened senses it was hard to tell sometimes. He quickly gained control of his heart that felt like it was beating outside of his chest. He resisted putting his hand to where his heart was supposed to be to check if everything was still in the right place. Finally, he turned around to discover that it was David that had tried to grab his attention. 

"David, hey!"

David smirked and stepped closer, whispering something into his ear:

"This must seem kind of boring to you too after that rave last week"

Peter nervously shifted his weight.

"Yeah…About that…could you please not tell anyone about it? Especially not Mr. Stark?"

Only if you come to the next one", David winked. 

"You are joking, right?"

"Yeah, sure. Just don’t disappoint me"

Peter looked at his hand. It was perfectly still. Like it was indicating that David could be trusted.

"Alright"

David had already moved on, motioning Peter to come with.  


"They left a bottle of champagne unattended in the kitchen, come on"  


And Peter followed him, his knees feeling weak. 

\--

"I thought that the first sip of booze always tasted disgusting but this does not taste half bad"

"That’s because this is a fifty-year-old bottle of Krug Brut Vintage, my friend. Of course it is going to taste better than some cheap beer or whiskey. Man, my dad’s scotch was not so bad either"

"Uh…"

"…You don’t remember? At the party with Travis?"

Peter tried to remember. He couldn’t.

"Yeah…shit, you were pretty wasted"

David drew his index finger across his throat to emphasize how wasted Peter must have been.

"I was not _that_ wasted"

"Dude, you were trying to convince the bouncer that he should stop serving alcohol to minors and dedicate his life to getting homeless children off the streets. If he was not so busy filling orders that would have gotten us kicked out"

"Yeah, okay, I was a little drunk", Peter smiled, weirdly proud of himself.

After they had downed the entire bottle, David handed him something in a tiny cup. 

"Here, I’ve got some mouthwash. It’s mint-scented. Always gets my dad off my back. He thinks I haven’t drunk in six months"

Peter downed the contents of the cup and spat them into the sink, same as David.

"Wait, why six months? What about before that?"

"You _are_ smart, huh? Shit, I forget you’re a nerd. Well, before boarding school-"

"What are you boys _doing_ in here? _¡Fuera!"_ , the woman that had interrupted them was presumably on cleaning duty, her hair in a straight black bob, hands digging into her hip pockets . She reminded Peter of his mom (when she was still alive). Strict but loving at her core.

They quickly scurried away. Peter remembered what he had been planning to do all along. 

"I need a smoke"

Okay, _maybe_ the smoking was getting a little bit out of hand. _Maybe_ he did it a bit too much, _maybe_ he had already smoked a pack that day. But there was no way of stopping without telling Mr. Stark and…

he...

The truth was that he could not have Mr. Stark finding out. He would tell May and…well, May would be furious. And probably take his cigarettes away. She would not understand.

"Dude, I need a smoke too but my dad’s staring at me. Catch you later", David patted him on the back and rejoined his dad. His dad really was staring at him. And at Peter, too. Peter averted his gaze.

Luckily, Mr. Stark was not so clingy. Spider-Man had earned his trust. Peter wished him and Spider-Man were the same person, that he could be as perfect as Spider-Man all the time. But he wasn’t. Because it was Peter that had removed the tracking device from his suit, securing it to the front apron of one of the thousands of cabs in New York City. Because it was Peter that had "reprogrammed" Karen to make sure she not alert Mr. Stark if she were ever to find anything suspicious in his system. Peter Parker was not a hero. Spider-Man was.

Quickly, he searched for a quiet space. Thanks to his advanced hearing he was able to detect one not too far off to the right of him, hidden by big yellow stitched curtains. He slowly, cautiously walked outside and ensured that no-one was watching.

Peter used the lighter he had hidden inside of his coat to light up a cigarette. His hands were shaking, the half a bottle of champagne was slowly kicking in. The air was shivering cold but he barely felt it. 

"Kid?"

_Shit-_

Peter let go of his lighter, but it was too late, the cigarette was already burning and giving off smoke. He quickly put it behind his back. He could already smell the toxins making their way into his lungs. He needed more. He _needed_ it. 

"Peter?", Tony stepped out of the darkness, "What are you doing back there? Come back inside, it’s freezing. I’ll ju-"

He wrinkled his nose.

"What the fuck? You’re smoking?"

Peter wavered, he could NOT tell him. He would take his suit and everything he had worked for. He could not lose his suit. He NEEDED his suit. 

"What? No! Wow, Mister Stark, never! I would never do something like that"

"Show me your hands", Tony demanded sternly.

"You don’t trust me?"

"No"

Peter sighed, dropping the cigarette behind him and then showing his hands. 

Mr. Stark picked the cigarette up, ignoring Peter’s pathetic attempt at hiding his secret and almost flicked it in his face.

"Who gave you this? Huh? _Spider-Man?"_

Mr. Stark pronounced his alter ego’s name like a swear word.

"Um, I don’t…"

"Answer me"

"A couple of kids at my school smoke, it’s no biggie"

"So you thought it would a good idea to join in?", Mr. Stark asked angrily.

"Yes, I mean, no-"

"It was a rhetorical question, kid", Mr. Stark sighed.

Mr. Stark pinched the brink of his nose.

"This ends right now. You need help", Mr. Stark started mumbling.

«What? No, come on, you used to smoke too, I’ve heard all the stories. Tony Stark, the anti-hero. Mr. Stark, please-» 

The room started spinning again and he lost his footing. 

"So you are drunk as well? Shit, kid, this is not fine. _You_ are not fine»"

"Yes, I am"

"No, you are not"

"Am"

"Alright, then look at me"

"Hm? Why?"

"Come on, look at me for five seconds so I can believe you"

Peter started giggling. Lifting his head. But he could not keep looking for long. Somehow, his head just felt too heavy.

"See? I’m all good"

"Yup, you are drunk, kid. Shit, you were supposed to be better than me. I wanted you to be better"

Peter felt like protesting but something told him that if he did that he would throw up. It dawned on him from somewhere that maybe his super metabolism (huh, that was a funny word) made drugs kick in faster. He had only meant to try the champagne, not drink, what five, six glasses? Yet, here he was. He had never meant to end up in the state that he was in.

"I’m sorry", he started giggling. He knew it was inappropriate to continue laughing but he couldn’t stop. It was actually kind of funny that he was drunk in front of Mr. Stark. _Another glass would be even better!_ Wait, no, that was drunk him talking.

"Okay, stay right here"

_Oh_ \- he remembered the situation that he was in. Now he wanted to cry.

"No, but-"

"Shut up. Just. Stay right there", Mr. Stark left into the darkness. 

Peter slowly sank to the floor and put his face into his hands. He was such an idiot. Now, they would make him stop smoking. He didn’t want that. He wanted to have control over his own life, not lose it. Why did no-one ever let him make decisions for himself? He was basically an adult and everyone was treating him like a child. 

After a few minutes of silent disappointment in the people around him, Happy showed up. Peter made a weak attempt at explaining himself but Happy simply motioned him to stop talking and get up. Happy did his best to walk by the edge of the saloon and keep the escapade on the down-low but Peter could still see David staring at him. He was holding onto Happy’s shoulder when David gave him a bit of a smirk. That hint of a smile made him stumble over his own two feet. He didn’t know how David was still standing when he could barely walk. 

A few weeks ago, he would have called the guys in his class that bragged about getting so drunk they could barely walk drunks, liars, sometimes. That would get him a rare smile out of MJ. Now, here he was, imitating them. He could barely understand what Happy was saying. 

"Don’t speak a word until we get to the car. There is a lot of press around and we don’t want to give them any reason to publish this"

They quietly walked towards the car and Happy shoved him onto the limousine’s back seat.

As requested, Peter sunk into the back seat and kept quiet until out of sight of the paparazzi. But the nervous looks Happy was giving him were hard to ignore. Not because he particularly cared but because even from his slumped down position he could hear the resulting air flow of Happy rapidly moving his head back and forth every two seconds. He really wished he could ignore it but it was loud to such an extent that it was hard to do so.

"What?", he simply asked, annoyedly. 

The car came to a halt and Happy sighed. 

"You remind me of him"

"Who-?"  


"Never mind", Happy started up the car again.

"No, wha- what do you mean?"

Happy paused and smiled sadly.

"Tony is the smartest man I know and yet he has made some of the dumbest decisions I have ever had the misfortune to encounter"

"What? I’m not like Mr. St- Tony. I can handle it"

Happy went silent again.

"What? What is it?"

"That is the same thing that he said to me every time that he did something so stupid that it was blasted on mainstream media outlets for weeks"

Peter shrugged. Why was Happy on his case like that? It was just some pills and alcohol, nothing he couldn’t handle. 

"I know it feels like you have all the time in the world to mess up and do whatever you like. But with these things you don’t. The sooner you stop them the better"

"I can stop"

"I know that you’ll try. But, Peter - If you are anything like him you will not be able to stop"

Peter wiped a stray tear away that had managed to make its way onto his cheek. 

By the time they had reached his apartment building he could feel his legs again. They had spent the rest of the thirty minute car ride in complete silence.

"Bye, Happy! Nice talking to you!"

"Goodbye, Peter"

\--

Oh _no._ Judging by the tears on May’s face, Mr. Stark had told her.

"You are going to boarding school", Mr. Stark commenced his speech.

"What? No way!", May quickly interrupted him. Well, the speech was clearly not very well-organized.

"May, he needs consequences"

"He NEEDS a HOME"

"Peter", Aunt May said, her eyes brimmed with tears. 

"Peter, I know what’s going on. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner"

"What…What do you mean?", Peter’s hands were starting to sweat. It actually kind of sucked that he was starting to sober up. 

"It’s that Flash boy, no? Has he been bothering you again? Come on, baby, sit down"

If that was how they reacted about the booze, he definitely couldn’t tell them about the pills.

_Come clean or have fun lying._

Peter took a seat right next to them.

"Yeah, he’s been really um…mean. Shoving me into lockers and stuff"

That had actually happened, of course, but it wasn’t happening anymore. Oh well, what did it matter, it was a white lie. White lies don’t matter.

"It doesn’t matter, you are still going to boarding sch-"

May interrupted Mr. Stark once again.

"Mr. Stark and I need to have a little talk"

Peter held his breath, scared. Mr. Stark did not like being interrupted. But Mr. Stark just sighed.

"Fine, Peter, go to your room"

Peter got up, appreciative of at least having a few minutes to himself. Everything was still spinning. 

_"Look, I appreciate everything you do to keep Peter safe. But Peter is my child. He may not be my blood but he is mine"_

Why did they keep forgetting that he could hear them perfectly fine through any wall?

_"I understand that. But I have access to a variety of resources-"_

_"So do I. You think because you have money you are a better parent?"_

_"Listen to what I am saying: I have a team of..."_

He wiggled his thumbs, tuning out the conversation with all of his mental strength. Some adderall or a few shots would do him wonders right now. His leg shook, telling him to do make things easier for himself. Nah, it wasn’t the moment. He was right not to: Just a few moments later they called him back out. He realized he had actually tuned out the rest of the conversation by thinking about the conversation. Strange.

Mr. Stark looked much less determined than he had before. 

"May made me realize that I was projecting. You know that I have been sober for two years"

Peter nodded silently. He remembered the anniversary.

"Look, kid, I may not know what it is like to be a normal teenager but still with all the things that you have been through you have to be careful with experimenting. You have so much responsibility. Imagine if you got tipsy and tried to stop a robbery -"

Peter made a mental note to himself: Never get high on patrol.

"Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry, okay?"

Mr. Stark gave him a look, like he could see right through him.

"Therapy, twice a week"

"What? No, Mr. Stark, I… May, please, I don’t need that"

"With what you have been through you should have gotten help a long time ago", Mr. Stark continued.

"Well we couldn’t exactly pay for it", May interjected dryly.

"Right, my apologies", Mr. Stark replied in a neutral tone as if to ease the tension.

"Sorry, same side, I know", May brushed away a tear that had escaped her eyelids.

"We just want what’s best for you", May patted Peter's hand.

"Yeah, of course. I want that too"

He was such a liar.

\--

"Peter, how are you? I’m Mr. Cabhru, it’s nice to meet you"

Peter shook the therapist’s hand.

"Look, Mr. Cabhru, I am sure that you are very good at what you do but this was all a huge misunderstanding"

"What makes you think that?", the man asked. He looked kind, his face hidden by big shiny glasses. Maybe he could trust him.

Peter thought back to the past month. The two raves he had been to, the parties. The colors, the booze. Oh, and the Clarity. He missed it already but he had an instinctive feeling that twice was enough. Clarity had made him think about death and that was one of those topics that he did not want to think about. 

"I don’t know. There just was really…nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, what else is there to say?"

"We can talk about anything you like"

"Uh…like what?"

"Well, what about school?"

"What about it?"

"Do you have friends, a girlfriend? How are your grades?"

"Yeah, I have two best friends. My grades are…fine, I think. I don’t have a girlfriend"

"Okay"

The therapist asked him all kinds of questions about his personal life until the hour was over. Then, he sent Peter outside so that he could not hear what him and Mr. Stark were talking about. Of course, he could hear everything perfectly fine. 

Having come so close to a psychological evaluation made him want to never take medication again. 

Yeah, he would stop. Happy was right. He would keep the pills but only for emergencies. 

_"He seems to be coping just fine. However, he seems anxious. I think once a week would be fine for now"  
_

_"Thank you, Mr. Cabhru"_

Mr. Stark stepped outside of the room.

_"_ Alright, he thinks once a week is enough. It'll be Thursdays, from six to seven _"_

"Mr. Stark, that really won’t be necessary"

That made Mr. Stark's face lose some of its warmth. He looked angry.

"If you don’t go I’ll assume that boarding school is where you want to be"

"No, come on, Tony, please", Peter made a last attempt at persuasion but Tony walked away, leaving him standing in that empty hallway, alone with his thoughts.

\--

Peter sighed. He hadn't drunk booze in a week, refusing all of David's invitations. He hadn't smoked either, which was even more infuriating.

It was really difficult to concentrate without having fun and he debated taking another pill. He reached underneath his mattress and realized his mistake: The pills were all crushed up, there was no way he would be able to take them.

He would have to meet Rosa again. He hated that she had been right. But she wasn't really right, after all if the mattress thing hadn't happened he wouldn't need a restock. He didn't need _new_ pills, he just needed to replace the ones he already had.

His fingers started shaking,

He had a Spanish and Chemistry tests tomorrow and he saw no other way. He rolled up a dollar bill and got into position.

The next thing he knew his nostrils were burning. He sniffled again to make sure he had caught all of the residue. It kind of hurt but in a good way. Then, he could feel a rush coming. He felt really, _really_ good, better than ever. This was so much better than pills! 

He got a lot done that night but strangely enough he did not remember most of it. The only problem was that it did not last as long, so he had to do two more lines before bed. 

On Tuesday his nose started bleeding randomly. But he didn't worry too much because he would stop snorting it after «cram week» anyways. It was really no problem. No problem, no problem. He needed to stop repeating, repeating - Fuck!

Wednesday, one small restock with Rosa and Friday night went by and suddenly Peter took his first breath of fresh air in a week. He had done it! Finally, he was free for at least one week-end. For the first time in his life he had not procrastinated. So what if he had needed a little help with achieving his goal? Flash took adderall because it helped him, so did he. It made him feel focused, grounded. Not busy in an overcrowded world. And _energetic._

But of course three of their teachers e-mailed them about more homework and extra credit (which he needed after flunking last week's Spanish test) that afternoon. So, he did a few more lines here and there.

Monday morning came, and he found himself in the school bathroom, snorting a line off the back of his hand because he had not gotten enough sleep on Sunday. And then on Tuesday it was because the cafeteria was too loud for him to focus without addies. Wednesday was because he felt like it and it made him more confident in front of MJ. She made him nervous for some reason.

The longer it went on the more reasons there were to keep taking it.

Before he knew it, it had been three weeks. He had been on adderall for three weeks. He only had a handful of pills and no spare money left. That meant that today was the day he would stop. After all, he needed to guard some pills for emergencies.

He made himself a cup of coffee. May smiled.

"Ah, yes, I love coffee. There is nothing quite like it in the morning"

After Peter’s third cup of coffee, Aunt May raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, Aunt May, I need the energy for the test today"

"Angioletto, you are more Italian than I am! But I am also a nurse, so I know three coffees are definitely too much"

After she had left for an early shift at Mr. Delmar’s, Peter poured himself two more. He finally felt half awake.

By the time Peter sat down in his chair at school, the coffee had already left his bloodstream. Every pencil movement screamed agony. Every whisper felt like it had been spoken into existence explicitly to torture him. Where as before everything had been sped up and the more enjoyable parts endlessly joyous, now the most mundane things were happening in slow-motion and joy was something that eluded him. 

On the way home, he only had one thought on his mind. One thing to make everything go back to normal again. He probably had ADHD just like Flash, he probably needed the medication just as much. Going through life without adderall was incredibly tedious and was definitely not what he was made for. He realized that now. It would only do him and his grades good to keep taking it.

At home, he sat down and slumped into his chair. He needed to gather his thoughts. He did not want to _need_ something, especially when it cost money. But at the same time, the effects of it were too promising. It would _help_ him study.

He gazed into the corner of the room where his stash lay. His finger could not stop twitching. One more could not hurt. Just one more, and he would stop. One line and he had energy again, one line and he had his life back. There were worse things he could do. Heroin, for example. He chuckled to himself. How idiotic did one have to be to even try such a thing. At least his drugs were prescription and he was using them to function more, not less.

He opened his gym bag and took out the pills. He crushed and lined them up with the help of his pencil sharpener. He inhaled deeply. He loved that moment, right before he took the first hit. Like taking your first bite of birthday cake after a long day of staring at it. 

After three lines everything became very calm. So calm that he could scream. Oops, he had only meant to do one. Whatever.

There was a knock on the door. In a matter of seconds Peter, put everything away. Not a second too early. Before he had a chance to respond, May poked her head in through the door frame.

"Peter?"

"Hey, what’s up? What’s wrong? Everything okay?", the words stumbled out of his mouth. 

W _ay to act casual, Peter,_ he winced, _why did I do it again, I promised myself I would keep a few pills for emergencies. What’s wrong with me?_

"The hospital called. Apparently there has been a change in legislation where I need to acquire further licensing in order to keep working as a nurse. I will be out of work for at least a couple of months, a year maybe"  


That took a few moments to register but suddenly Peter was in a rage.

"What? How is that legal? You should get a lawyer!" _,_ _oops,_ he had said that too loud judging by the dumbfounded look on May’s face. 

"Angioletto, if I had the money to pay for a lawyer we would not be in this situation. Just promise me that you are going to work hard no matter what. Money is going to be tight for a while and I will be out throughout the day"

_You already are,_ Peter bit his lip. 

"Huh?"

"Yes, of course. I will. Should I pick up a couple shifts at Mr. Delmar’s to help out?"

"No! No, you do not worry about anything but school right now. I will ask Mr. Delmar myself. I could do with some extra hours"

"Should I ask Mr. Stark?"

"No, definitely not. He doesn’t need to know. Promise me you won’t tell him"

Peter nodded.

"I promise"

May gave him a hug.

"May?"

_Tell her. Tell her right now, before it’s too late._

"Hm?", she murmured into his shoulder.

_It’s a slippery slope-_

"No, nothing, sorry. It’s nothing"

_Nothing at all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of you guys subscribed so I know people are interested.:') So, if you are reading this pretty please leave a comment? :) 
> 
> (please consider telling me what you liked specifically about this chapter/story, not just that I should update:))


	8. Food stamps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things:
> 
> 1) thank you so much for all of the comments on the last chapter! it really helped me understand how well you guys understood what I was trying to convey and noticed the details that I wove into the storyline, hoping someone would care:) 
> 
> 2) I started college and that's why I have been gone
> 
> 3) Happy New Year!

Peter stared at the food stamps on the table. Three weeks of May being out of work and they were already on welfare. Luckily, the papers had gone through quickly. But still, they were on welfare.

They were on fucking _welfare._

He was so lost.

They had always struggled keeping everything afloat, especially since...Ben had died but they had never crossed the line. It made him realize how lucky he had been that May had always worked so hard to keep them stable and how lucky he had been to get that scholarship. 

And now, they were less lucky. Everything was falling apart. Everything that they had worked so hard for. Maybe he would have to pick up a couple of shifts at Mr. Delmar's after all, especially now that the addies had burnt through his entire savings. He could already feel a deep sense of dread settling in his stomach.

David was away because of his father's campaign and there was no way of reaching him. Rosa had stopped giving him freebies. Everything was going to shit.

"Hey, Peter, could you pick up the food stamps from the SNAP office? I have to leave for Delmar's soon and I don't have the time"

"Well, I don’t…I have to get to school…"

"Peter", May put her hair into a ponytail, "you know that we have to work as a team, things are tight right now"

"Alright, I'll do it, I'm sorry. It’s just that I have two pop quizzes today and-"

"Shit, I have to go, my shift starts in five minutes. Bye, honey"

Peter sighed and plunged his spoon into his cereal bowl, feeling weirdly distraught by the colors. They looked…wrong. He wanted to throw up.

"Oh, and Peter? Just don't do anything stupid, okay? There’s no more room for messing up. No more smoking, okay? And remember your therapist appointment is on Thursday"

"Yes, I’m sorry, May. Understood"

As soon as May had left through the door, Peter bolted to the bathroom. He heaved into the toilet bowl. He cursed himself for being so careless. His fast metabolism meant that withdrawal sometimes crept up on him. He wiped at his mouth, desperate to forget the taste of bitterness of mouth, threatening to take his sense of stability away.

He lined up a crushed up addy that he had stowed away in his pants and admired the way in which the snowy substance glistened and sparkled in the air. How painful his nostrils smelled already and yet he could not wait to have his daily dose of enthusiasm.

He was keeping it simple: One line and two addies as pills to keep him stable throughout the day, two additional lines during the afternoon to keep him focused and motivated. Another line an hour before sleep to keep his body from withdrawing when he was asleep. Although, admittedly, he did not sleep that much anymore, if at all.

He climbed out of his bedroom window to have his first cig of the day. He inhaled deeply and briefly held onto the fire escape. With every inhale he could feel his sanity returning. Spider-Man would have disagreed, but he was not Spider-Man. Right in that moment, he was just Peter Parker. Peter Parker was not perfect. Slowly, the fire inside of his stomach subsided. He felt a bit sick but up to any task that the world provided for him. He was ready for the day.

\--

Someone was coughing right next to him. Why did sick people even get on the subway?

"What is wrong with you? Get away from me, I don’t want your dirty germs on me!"

The man looked up, ski mask on his head, confused.

"What is your point, boy? We all get sick sometimes"

"People like you disgust me. I have three tests this week, you think other people don’t have lives? I actually have a life, you know!"

Then he noticed the stares. A boy around his age, clutching his backpack straps, as if ready to bolt any moment. That used to be him. Scared of the loud, of the dangerous.

What was he doing? Screaming at a crazy person on an NYC subway? Where had it all gone wrong? Was _he_ crazy?

"Um, sorry", he stood up and moved towards the front of the wagon, confused and probably swaying a bit. Almost like an invisible wind was guiding him through a great storm. Perfect. He was perfect.

\--

«Peter?»

"Yeah, Ned, man, what’s up?"

Fuck, his nostrils were hurting so much.

"You know how we have got that Chemistry presentation in two weeks?"

"What, Ned, no, we don’t?"

"Yeah, dude, I marked it right here on my schedule. Here, check it out", Ned pulled out his notebook.

"Whaat? But that’s right after my lab weekend with Mr.-Tony"

"And more importantly: It’s two days before Christmas! I was thinking if we get started now we could rehearse it next week. Also, we could start thinking about our next LEGO piece. Maybe if we both save up we could buy the next one together. That would be awesome!"

"Um, Ned, no, that would not be awesome"

Immediately, he could see a shift in his friend’s body language. Like someone had let some of the air out and left behind a slightly more dejected hot air balloon.

That was his fault. He needed to reverse it. Since when did he have such an effect on other people?

"No, Ned, wait I can explain so, uh, Ned, wait, it’s all-"

\- Woe, his words were getting jumbled up.

_Get a grip._

"Things with me and May have been…pretty hard and…"

Luckily, Ned caught on fairly quickly.

"Oh. Sorry, dude, I didn’t know. Can I do anything to help?"

And now Ned looked worried, like he had been after Ben’s death. No, don’t make Ned look worried. _Say something, you loser._

"Actually, I have been looking at ways to earn a bit of money since May won’t allow me to work. I thought of going to the computer l-lab",

_oh my God stop stuttering you idiot_ , "after school"

Ned looked overjoyed.

"Yeah, dude, I’ll be right there! And after that we can work on our project"

"No, Ned-", but Ned had already smiled, patted him on the back and walked away. _Shit, I’ll be in withdrawal by then. I need more pills._

\--

At lunch, he was starting to come down. Fuck his high metabolism, fuck everything.

Mj spoke up.

"What's going on with you? You're super skinny"

"Um, what? No, I'm not"

He plunged his spoon into the potato soup and pretended that something very interesting was waiting for him at the bottom of the bowl, something other than shame.

"Alright, you don't have to tell me"

She sighed and went back to doodling. He couldn’t help but notice her intense stare on his way out. Surely, she was wrong. Surely, he hadn’t changed.

He went into the bathroom, scarcely feeling a scared freshman sneaking right past him. He stared into the mirror. Who was that? Maybe it was the adderall but he definitely seemed...skinnier. He put his head on the glass and inhaled deeply. Fuck. He had not meant for this to happen.

He would change, he had to. 

Although...maybe...it wasn’t even the adderall. He had been sleeping less, that could have been cause of the weight loss. Yeah, that was it, he would start sleeping more.

He left the room, unable to tolerate his reflection any longer. Because whoever had looked back at him in that bathroom was not really there. And that scared him to death.

\--

It was sitting at the top of Flash's gym bag, almost like it was mocking him. Or perhaps desperate, begging him to take it.

He took out twenty pills and slid them into his back pocket. Before he could pull the gym bag shut, a hand on his shoulder made him drop the pills.

"What are you doing, weirdo?"

Alarmed, Peter turned around to find his bully’s face staring right back at him.

"What?", Peter replied as he crouched down to pick the pills back up.

"You just took my adderall"

"No, I didn't. What are you talking about?"

"Don’t deny it. I know what they look like. What kind of psycho are you? I need those pills"

As Peter just stared at him, unable to process what had just happened, Flash started leaving the room and shook his head.

"Nah, I’ll go tell Mrs. Alison. I knew you were cheating"

He felt a sudden rage wash over him. He grabbed Flash’s collar and pushed him up against the wall.

"You tell Mrs. Alison and I'll fucking kill you"

Normally, Flash would have laughed it off but Peter was using all of his superhuman strength on the guy to keep him glued to the wall. The expression on Flash’s face morphed into something resembling fear. Peter bit his lip after he was satisfied and let go of the other guy.

He shot Flash a last look.

"Besides, I _need_ them too"

He didn’t look back.

\--

He had had no chance to snort the pills, their teachers had basically ignored the bell ringing and they had had no breaks.

"Peter!"

Ned took a seat at the computer next to Peter.

"‘sup"

"I can’t stay for too long. You know what my mom’s like, she wants me to be home by six. She thinks it’s too dangerous to be outside after that", Ned groaned.

"Your mom just cares about you! She wants you to be okay, you know?", Peter raised his voice as his body went hot and cold at the same time.

The other people in the computer lab stared at him in disbelief. Then he realized that it probably was not normal to yell about something like that. He put his head into his hands.

"Sorry"

"I mean, it’s okay. I mean, I would be stressed too", Ned patted his back like he was a child.

"I’m not s-stressed, Ned", Peter spat through clenched teeth, "and I’m not a child"

His friend could not be deterred.

"It’s okay to be stressed. You can talk to me about anything, you know?"

That made him feel a tiny bit guilty. He reopened his eyes, even though all he wanted to do was sleep.

"How about you tutor other kids?"

"I guess I could"

Ned worked out the layout of the flyers and the color scheme. All Peter did was give vague instructions which did not seem to slow down his friend. Then, they created a vague outline for their presentation.

"I have to go to the bathroom", he just needed _two pills_ , for God’s sake. They always shut down the bathrooms at five.

"No, wait, my train leaves in fifteen minutes!"

And Peter waited as his friend printed out the flyers. He knew he was supposed to feel guilty but he couldn’t feel anything. He would have to find another place to do the addies, at that point only snorting them could bring him back fast enough.

He still smiled a bit at the possibility of financing future addies with his own money. He would probably stop feeling so guilty then.

\--

«The bathroom is closed»

"What?"

"The bathroom"

The janitor gestured with his hands as if Peter was ten years old.

"closed"

"No, please, sir-"

"Boy, it’s just a bathroom, you can go at home"

There was no point in replying. With his eyes watering and his legs trembling, he walked towards the front entrance of the school. He tried running but quickly realized that he did not want to draw attention to himself.

"Hey, Penis!"

"Huh?"

A hand grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him up against the lockers.

As he caught a glimpse of Flash’s stupid face he wanted to retaliate but his legs were shaking so badly that he was lucky to still be standing

"I'm sorry", he whimpered. He knew his chances. Flash dragged him outside the building. A blow to his face brought him to his knees, whereas other times he would have barely felt the impact, his ribs aching. All he could think about was that he needed to snort something _right now._

He could only lay there, on the concrete steps in front of his high school and try not worsen his pain. The other boy spit on him and laughed. Blood was running down the side of his face.

Flash stepped closer and rummaged through Peter’s pockets.In triumph, he waived the pills in the air, presumably all twenty of them.

"These are my pills. Get your own prescription, low life"

And with that, Flash left him in the cold winter air. Peter breathed in some dust.

_"Merry Christmas",_ he whispered to himself,

_"and a happy new Year"_

\--

He needed more pills. Everything inside of him was screaming for him to get more. More, more, more.

«M-my aunt wrote me a note, I’m here to pick up our SNAP benefits for the month of January»

"Alright, just fill out this form and we will get right to you. Oh, and hand me over the note please. I’m assuming she signed it?"

Peter nodded. At least the lady at Queens’ food stamp office seemed nice.

"Okay, we will be right with you"

The woman turned off the communication speaker and started scribbling something onto paper.

Peter took a seat on one of the waiting chairs next to the booth. But then he wished he would have left the room.

_"See, it’s always the drug addicts that get benefits. We work all day and they get high and get everything for free? It’s not right, Caroline, I’m telling you"_

_"You’re right"_

The same woman shoved the food stamps into an envelope and looked up with a smile.

"Number 19"

Peter stood up and walked to the front of the line again.

She turned on the speakers.

"Here you go, sweetie. Have a nice day"

"Thank you", he smiled and left the office.

What was that lady’s problem? He was _not_ a drug addict.

He checked the envelope. _I bet I could sell these for a lot of money. I bet they’re worth at least a week’s batch of pills._

Before he knew it, he was on his way to meet Rosa.

He let out a breath of relief when he discovered her black, shiny hair standing out from the crowd of high schoolers leaving the school building. Some of them he vaguely remembered but he could not bring himself to get wrapped up in another conversation. He was tired, his head was pulsing, he just needed something to pick him up.

"Rosa, h-hey, Rosa!"

He poked her shoulder. She turned around, seemingly unfazed to see him at her high school.

"H-h-hey, Rosa. I need more of the…you know…of the addies"

"Let’s go talk somewhere else", she started guiding him towards a more secluded spot.

"Hey, isn’t that Pedro? I thought you weren’t selling anymore!", a guy within the group that seemed vaguely familiar asked.

"Shut up, Raj, this is none of your business", Rosa yelled back.

Once they were out of sight, she smiled.

«Okay, how many?»

"Um…You give me 20 pills and I give you these, okay?", he opened the covert envelope to show her the month’s worth of food stamps.

Her visage darkened.

"I only accept cash"

"Please?"

She looked away, her mind unreadable.

"P-please, Rosa, I’m begging you, I can get you more money next week"

"Alright, but I can’t sell them to you at full value"

Peter’s mouth started watering as she took out the bag of pills, he tried to act casual but his body gave him away.

"Thanks", he snatched it away greedily. He gave away the envelope like it didn’t contain an entire month’s worth of food.

And if he went into a public bathrooms to snort up five pills at once that was none of anyone’s business. He was just taking care of himself.

—

"May, I am so sorry, but I lost the food stamps. I must have left them on the subway"

May’s eyes widened.

Peter sniffled.

"I'm s-so sorry, Aunt May, please don't be mad"

She dropped the keys onto the kitchen table. She had just gotten home.

_I wouldn't believe me_.

May put her arms into her side, squinting her eyes. 

For a moment there he could see salvation, could see all the weight being lifted and all of the ugliness in his soul being spilled out onto the table.

But she just sighed and took something out of her purse.

"Alright, I have some left from last week that I did not use and some cash I spared for emergencies"

"Thank you so much, I am so sorry"

"Okay, I trust you"

"Peter? Are you sure that you didn’t use them to buy cigarettes?"

"I swear, I don't know what happened", Peter doubled down.

May looked at him weirdly, almost emotional.

"I trust you"

"Yeah. I know"

May gave him a hug.

"I’m so sorry to have to put you through this, _amore._ I know it can’t be easy for you either"

"It’s okay, May, don’t worry about me. I’m fine"

He really did feel fine, much better than before at least. Still, when he felt May’s cheeks getting wet, he wanted to cry with her. 

This was all his fault, if he wasn’t there she would have one less mouth to feed. She probably regretted taking him in in the first place. She probably regretted ever having met him or Ben. He definitely needed another line.

\--

"Hey, Pete. I’ve been having some issues with the nano tech for your new suit and thought you might want to help"

Peter waited for Mr. Stark to ask him to come over.

"Kid?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to help or not?"

"Oh, yes, of course, I’m so so sorry, Mr. Stark-"

"I thought that you called me Tony now"

"Yeah, uh, sorry. When should I come?"

"Right after school? I have your schedule, Happy’s substitute will pick you up"

"Okay", he replied cheerily.

Maybe Peter’s hands were shaking a bit when handling the machines and he had to excuse himself to go to the bathroom a couple of times but all in all, the visit was like any other. At midnight, he started feigning fatigue in order to not raise suspicion, after all they had been working for seven hours straight.

"You tired?", Tony said as if he had just remembered that even mutants needed sleep, «Well, I’ve got something to show you»

He led Peter into his penthouse and past a variety of rooms before stopping in front of one as if expecting something. He opened the door and motioned Peter to enter. Inside there was a bed, a closet, a variety of different gadgets and the view of the city was hidden by big white curtains.

"Your room"

"My room?"

As Tony scratched his head, he smiled bashfully.

"Yeah, Pepper chose the curtains and pretty much…everything. So you can come by whenever you want"

Peter suddenly couldn’t speak, he felt so overwhelmed by the thought of having his own room at Tony’s house. Did he really care about him that much?

"Is it okay? We can change the curtains if you want to"

Peter had never heard Tony sound so insecure. Unable to give Tony the reply he deserved, he tentatively wrapped his arms around him. Tony hugged him and suddenly he could speak again.

"Thank you", he mumbled. 

"You’re welcome, kid. Are you hungry?"

"Uh, no, I had a lot of breakfast"

"Well, you have got to eat something. I’ll whip up some pancakes", Tony ignored his weak protests.

And so Peter choked down an entire batch of pancakes before vomiting it all into his new room’s porcelain toilet bowl. The sore throat was worth the hint of a smile he had seen on his mentor’s face.

_He can’t know. And yet I want him to know. I’m scared._

—

Peter tapped his fingers on the wooden bed.

He had to sleep. He had to sleep. He had to sleep but he couldn’t. After what felt like another eternity staring at the wall, he decided that he couldn’t take it anymore.

He quietly advised Friday not to alert anyone to his presence and stepped out into the hallway. Even if Tony was clean, there had to be alcohol somewhere.

He rummaged around in the drawers of the big closet in the entryway. There, two bottles of sauvignon blanc. Pepper had probably forgotten about them after they had hosted that dinner with the senator. Perfect.

He pulled out the cap of the bottle with his bare hands and took a moment to inhale the scent. It was underwhelming but it felt good to be underwhelmed for once. He started nipping at the edge of the bottle and enjoyed the first sips of alcohol that he had had in weeks. When the warm feeling settled, he almost did not mind the jitters wearing off for once. He emptied the entire bottle and half of the second one and then finally, he felt a sense of calm.

Calm.

Calm…His eyelids started drooping off. His eyes were closing.

And then nothing mattered.

Where was he? He had to get back to bed. Somewhere on his left side, his chest was hurting a bit. He heaved his heavy body upright and weaved his way towards his bed, hiding the empty and remaining bottle in his school bag. And finally, he slept without a nightmare for the first time in weeks. He didn’t even dream. That was good. Not dreaming was good.

—

Ow.

_Where am I?_

«Peter?»

"What?", he mumbled, half asleep.

"You have to get to school, kid. And don’t forget your therapist appointment"

A sharp and annoying sound made its way through Peter’s skull. Why was Iron Man waking him up for school? Oh, _right._

While brushing his teeth, he could taste the alcohol mixing in with the toothpaste. _Ew._

"So, Peter. How have you been feeling?"

Peter nervously fumbled with his sweater.

"Yeah, I think I am doing better"

"How about your aunt?"

"Yeah, we’re doing okay"

"We?"

"Huh?", Peter nervously shifted his weight. Had he given something away?

"I asked about your aunt and you responded with "we""

"Oh. Yeah, I don’t know, I must have misheard you"

His therapist hastily wrote something down. Peter really needed a Tylenol, the headache was piercing through his skull.

"It is good that you are doing better. What about your friends, family?"

"Yeah, they are fine too. Me and my best friend Ned are planning on building another LEGO piece"

"Really? That’s great?"

"Did you hear about this new quadrocopter that can fly three loops in a row while keeping the camera steady?"

His therapist looked away, disappointed almost.

_Shit, I’m such a disappointment._

After an entire session of Peter explaining drone technology, Dr. Cabhru let him go. Peter tried walking away fast enough but he could hear anyways.

_"Mr. Stark? I am worried about Peter. I think he is hiding something"_

_"No, of course I asked him but he seems to be under the impression that I can’t help him"_

_"Of course, I will call you next Thursday to update you on his progress"_

_"Goodbye, sir. Have a nice evening"_

—

"Hey, turns out I don’t have any addies today"

Peter's stomach twitched weirdly, it had taken all of his strength and two tutor sessions to get to their meeting place, why was Rosa taking it away from him?

"- but I do have coke if you wanna try?"

"Um, cocaine? Is that not super dangerous? And illegal?"

Peter hesitated, suddenly feeling unsure of his plan to get uppers however possible.

Rosa looked irritated.

"You're taking addies on a daily basis, you will be fine"

She grinned.

"Unless...you want to wait until next week to get your new batch?"

And Peter hated himself but-

"No, no! I will take it. Thanks. Um, see you on Monday?"

"Yeah, see you Monday", she smiled, although she did look a bit worried. Maybe she was not used to clients buying from her so often.

Her pitiful stare followed him home.

—

Beep, beep, beep. The steady clicking and beeping of the cash register lulled Peter into a deep sleep. Almost.

"Penis Parker! Food stamps, huh? Interesting"

Peter groaned. What was _he_ doing here? Usually, being on vacation meant avoiding his school bully entirely.

"Leave me alone, Flash"

"You know from the moment that you walked into our school building I knew you were dirt poor"

"Go away, Flash. Isn’t Mommy and Daddy’s butler supposed to shop for you?"

He felt good at having made a good comeback until he noticed Flash’s expression faltering. Flash quickly regained his composure though.

"My parents provide for me. What do you have, huh? Pills?"

And with that, Flash pushed him into the snack bar. If he hadn’t been so on edge he would have seen that coming.

Instead, he cringed at the sound of a thousand snacks falling and hitting the ground in an agonizing array of sounds and clanking.

"Hey, you have to pick that up!", the person at the cash register yelled.

"Yeah, sorry", he mumbled and put everything back into its place.

When he turned around to finally pay for his food the other boy had already left.

At home, he started unpacking the bags of groceries when May softly tapped him on the shoulder.

"Have you had a good day?"

"Yeah", he replied.

"Are you sure?"

The dark circles underneath her eyes made him really angry all of a sudden.

"You know what, May? I'm just fucking humiliated by you not paying our bills. I mean, food stamps, really? If Ben were alive he would be ashamed"

May's face turned ashen. Immediately, Peter felt terrible. I’m a terrible person.

"Peter, what has gotten into you? It’s like I don’t even recognize you anymore"

Her gaze softened, "Is it Ben’s birthday? I know it’s two weeks away. You can talk to me about it, you know? You do not have to go through this alone"

Peter ached to be held, to get rid of the monster gnawing at his lungs, his very being. But it was too strong.

"You know what, Aunt May, just leave me alone. I don't need any sympathy from you!"

He slammed the door to his room behind him and locked it, uncaring about any repercussions, he felt such rage that it brought him to his knees.

He would have been scared if he had not been so focused on the bag of white powder in his hands, begging him to give it a try.

"Peter? Please talk to me?"

"No, leave me alone, May"

He panicked. She could not make him come out, not right now.

"Peter, come on, we can sort this out, you know we can"

"No, May, go away!"

Luckily, he could feel her heartbeat moving away from the door. And the monster inside of him rejoiced at having gotten rid of the threat while his heart bled chemical tears.

He put the straw to good use and then everything went blurry.

How many lines did he snort, six, seven? Too many to count, too many to keep him awake. He laughed…too much, maybe? He definitely did not get any homework done.

The next time he opened his eyes was when the glaring sun rays shone onto his face. Everything felt wrong and too sensitive. Everything _was_ wrong. His head was throbbing, his nostrils and his back hurting from apparently spending the night on the floor.

He wanted to disappear right then and there. Not die, simply go somewhere where he could not feel anything, just pure bliss and ecstasy. He would be happy and May would not have to worry anymore. The world would be rid of one more burden.

Yeah, he would never do cocaine again. It was a silly decision anyway.

But he could not stay right there, on that floor, where the shame of what he had done seemed to ooze from the very room he used to call his safe haven.

He put on his suit and went on patrol.

_I hate myself._

—

_"Peter? Are you safe? Climb onto a rooftop or something"_

_"Okay?"_

_"Are you sitting down?"_

_"Yes, what’s going on? Has something happened?"_

_His heart started pounding faster. Please don’t let him know my secret. Please don’t let it be-_

_"May’s been in an accident"_

_"W-what? Where?"_

_"She took a cab home from nightschool and apparently the driver was intoxicated. I’m afraid to tell you that she has died"_

_"No, that is not true. What hospital is she at?"_

_But Tony just smiled._

_"Tell me the hospital, Tony!"_

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

_This can’t happen, not to May. Why is he not responding?_

"Tell me the hospital. TELL ME THE HOSPITAL!", he shouted.

"Peter? Is everything alright?", May lept into his room. Only then did Peter come to realize that it had been a nightmare, that he had said only the last sentence out loud. It had all felt so…real. He groaned. Sweat beads were forming on his forehead.

"I…uhm, had a bad dream"

"What was it, then?"

Before Peter could reply, May sighed.

"You know, I have to get to sleep, I’ve got work at 7"

Peter suppressed a whimper, still somehow non-believing that his aunt was still alive, breathing. He was so glad to see her standing there even if she looked mad.

"You…", he felt himself getting choked up, "you died. Just like Ben did"

_Come on, don’t cry, you wuss._

May’s gaze softened and she took a seat on the outer side of his bed.

"Well, my biggest nightmare would be if something ever happened to you", she replied and gently pushed his curls back.

"Now get some sleep. And have a shower, you smell awful"

And Peter did. But he couldn’t resist drinking the rest of the sauvignon blanc he had saved up. After all, he had school tomorrow and couldn’t afford another nightmare. Or maybe he just liked the feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe some of you noticed, I had to reupload this chapter because it displayed the incorrect upload date and I'm not even sure you guys were notified that I updated! Sorry to @AddMoreLag and @StressedSpider, your comments on the old chapter are greatly appreciated, I had to remove them in order to reupload the chapter though <3
> 
> Feel free to comment, as y'all know AO3 writers thriiive off of comments :) and if you have the time make sure to tell me what exactly you thought of the chapter or how the storyline is progressing in general


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